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One year I had a best friend who was my roommate too, (which is never too good), and we seemed to have gotten mixed up at the tower of Babel, she didn't understand my language anymore, nor I hers. I got so mad after struggling with words that I threw my book at the mirror (it missed) and leaned my head back, banging it once twice three times hard against the wall in frustration. (It sort of crunched). She just blinked and shut the light on her way out.

One night I wanted a hug from a specific boy and he wasn't home and I had no way of reaching him. If anyone else had been there I would have been hijacking hugs from every human I touched upon but there was no-one and not him either and this made me crazy. I yanked at my hair until my scalp hurt and I didn't get bald patches like I'd wanted but I was relieved to still have all my hair when my fit of whatever-it-was passed. Loneliness.

One time I had a billion words pounding inside and trying to escape and no matter how fast I typed they would not come out any way but the abortions of a novel and this infuriated me more than anything. I pounded the keyboard with my fingertips until they were numb and my fingers sore from the force and then I jabbed some more and had to reboot my computer. While I was waiting for Windows I broke a pencil in half and ate a big tub of potato salad.

I would like to think this is all just hormones it's just hormones, but sometimes I cry myself to sleep.