I get mad about the little things because I can not say, how I feel about big stuff, each and every day. I get mad about the little things, and at the little people, because I can't scream out at the big people in my life. Every day at work, people ask me stupid things, and I swallow my pride, take it in stride, and try to be everything, to everyone. But when I get home, my patience is shot, and an encyclopedia I don't want to be, not to my friends, not to those I love. With them, I just want to be. If I seem a bit autistic, cause i don't want to speak out, understand it's just because, there's rage that I must keep in.

The people I love, seem farther away, as day by day goes past. And the love that I feel, seems pointless/unreal, each time someone shares, how wonderful their life, in my eyes, it seems, to contrast with the crap, that I try to make green. So don't be suprised, if my temper does flare, I get mad about the little things because the big things, I must accept.