< It's weird that other people exist
You know what thought regularly does me in? The most boring, banal, painfully obtuse conversation partner you've ever had the displeasure of knowing still thinks of themselves as the main character in their story. They're misunderstood, a lone wolf, a silent genius to themselves. There's a whole universe in there, and maybe the stars look more like graph paper but by god there are millions of them.
I mean, they are the main character in *their* story. They're not completely wrong.