We're All Crazy Now

we're all weird. 

sometimes i think that next to death, maybe, our biggest fear is that other people will find out how weird we are. they will find out how weird we are, and they won't want to be around us anymore.

and they'll tell two people how weird we are, and they'll tell two people and so on until nobody wants to be around us, and we'll end up alone.

which is maybe another kind of death, i guess.

maybe one of the good things about being diagnosed is that if you can get behind it, it's like permission to be how you really are once i a while, instead of spending all that time and energy trying to be someone you are not... which is "normal".

which as it turns out is something few, if any, people are.

what's up with that?


I only eat eggs that are made sunny side up. And I don’t eat the white part of the egg. To me, its just there for decoration. So when I eat the egg, I cut around the yolk, put a bunch of salt, and put it straight into my mouth...

If the vacuum is on, I must hum, increasing my volume, until I can just hear my humming.

I can only bite a Triscuit if my teeth are aligned with the direction of the grains on the cracker.


these aren't me. they could be, but i don't even know who they are...

there are lots more at i am neurotic. com.

it's pretty interesting.


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