Happiness in the pursuit of perfection

I watch a lot of people as they go. I enjoy picking up on other peoples habits, their inconsistencies, their faults. Its what makes us 'human'. It gives me material so I can act the better person myself, instead of the cold machine like socially unacceptable personality I actually have.
Most of the time its unavoidable, for some reason the paranoia that haunted my childhood has flowed into my adult life as a constant awareness of my surroundings. No matter where I go, I'm constantly listening, touching, smelling and looking 360 degrees, absorbing every facet of whats near. It can be quite intimidating sometimes, places with great crowds and excitement I tend to avoid as it becomes somewhat overwhelming for the senses.
Its great when it all works though. The only thing that makes us feel alive is the ability to sense our environment, ask any blind or deaf person. To have all of ones senses constantly in overdrive, its... like one is more than alive, intrinsically assimilated with the surroundings, with inputs flooding in a lunatic calm. Its like you are the only thing that matters. That everyone else is simply going through the motions. That you are the only one truly alive and breathing. That you are freed from this vile coat of skin that is to be human.

I'll argue to anyone that to be alive simply means to be human. Being alive transcends humanity, or any concept that we may have. Being alive is a supreme mathematical state, a chaotic superposition of billions of microstates into one macro: Breathing. Beating. Alive.