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"I just want them to understand!" He screamed as he slammed yet another door. He'd been stood in his room for the last half hour, just opening and closing doors, waiting for the inevitable attention that would follow from the cacophony. Thus far, nobody seemed to have even noticed the temper tantrum, nor the noise it created.

He wasn't sure exactly why nobody was yelling at him yet. The door had been banging constantly for ages, and yet nobody cared. So not only did they not understand, they no longer cared either. Half-deranged by this point, he left the door, and sat down in front of his computer. Cracking his knuckles, he fired up the nearest text editor, and began to write.

"I'll make them understand", he mumbled to himself as his fingers flew across the keys like a carefully controlled psychotic fit. And so he wrote a book, explaining his point of view, exactly how he felt, so that people might know what it was like to be him, and be all the more grateful that they weren't. He called it "How To Be Me", and it went something like this...
I amuse me... Mid 2002, when I was taking deliberate time off uni because I didn't like it...

This post has been sitting in my LJ client for days... I just forgot about it...


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