Why am I different? Why are you different? Why can’t you get passionate about anything? Why does imagination suck me in like a moth towards a flame? Why do I push like hell at everything, or just not give a damn? Why do I snap at people? Why can’t I just take it easy? It’s either full on, or this is boring me into dust. Why will I take the most inane decision and turn it into Defcon 5, just because there’s nothing else to take up my time? How can you possibly find so much random crap to talk about? Yet you’re not interested in how cars act like a fluid on the highway? Why does my mind keep jumping from screen to screen? Why am I tired all day but wake right up at 10pm? How did anyone write anything before there were editors with back space and insert? How does all this give us an advantage in the human gene pool? Where the hell are my sunglasses? Why can’t I just go with the flow? Why can’t I just finish something without a Herculean effort? Why don’t I have friends? How do I explain my passions to someone that is just annoyed that I can’t even clean up my clothes? Will I ever be able to accept myself for who I am?