The fabric of reality and society.

I made an analogy of the reality, or, well, a part of it, the part that I can have access to, like a fabric. All threads uniform. And there is something diferent. What does people usually do when they find something like that in their clothes? Rip it off. Seems to be that society works that way to. And at that point, the problem becames my problem. I am the different thread that doesn't seems to fit at any part of this reality fabric. Even when I try to do so, it doesn't work for me. It can be ok in the outside, but inside, is another story. Even in my differences I'm still different, and can't find my place. Awkwardness is the way in which I drive myself through life, surviving the contact with other beings, contact that will inevitable lead to suffering...in any form. And still I yearn for that contact and desire it. Neverending conflict. This is what I have to battle in my life. And I'm getting tired of it.