They told me only madness lie here.

I must appeal to you people with your faculties
Because everybody else is gonna laugh at me
People try to get over and take a crack at me

nate is out to get me. I washed my hands several times this morning when I first woke up. You see, I woke up with an intense nosebleed, and when the first little glimmers of consciousness came into my mind, I gently scratched my nose and revealed my fingers to be covered in crimson.

dem bones is out to get me. I logged onto e2 and tried to write a new node, but all I could see was the comments running down the side of my screen...

<BlueDragon>: I hear that they're planning to delete all of your nodes
<Chihuahua Grub>: That's right, tes. Your writing is awful and we have to let it go. Raise the bar, y'know.
<Segnbora-t>: you are an intellectual midget
<WonkoDSane> just slipped some quinine into your orange juice
<dannye>: I just read another of your writeups and I think I lost some brain cells
<mturner>: I didn't know it was actually possible to write nodes in crayon until you came along
<Pseudo_Intellectual>: To the salt mines with you, plebe!

yossarian kidnapped my dog. I cannot eat the eggs I just fried. Their limp yellow eyes stare up at me from the plate, asking me inquisitively why my hands are incapable of producing much of sentience. They keep talking.

dannye drove my buick into a lake. I try to edit some records. I delete one about Mr. T:

Mr. T

(person) by IHateYoutes

One of Mr. T's trademark moves is throwing someone (usually a bad guy) against a wall upside-down. I plan to do this to tes in the very near future. Do you hear me, tes? Someday soon, you will be walking down the street and I will walk up to you and throw you casually against a wall upside down. Pity the fool, suckah.

I delete another one about Hans Christian Andersen:

Hans Christian Andersen

(person) by tesMustBeDestroyed

Though many of his stories have an overtly moralistic or religious tone that now seem rather heavy handed, his influence on the development of fairy tales cannot be ignored. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the noding of tes, which is heavy handed, moralistic, stupid, inane tripe. I plan to whack you over the head with a book soon, plebe. Maybe I'll knock some of those brain cells free.

But they're everywhere. Everywhere. I try to hide from it all, to cover my eyes from the rejection and pain as the eggs keep staring at me with their pallid eyes, as the sun rises and bears down upon me.

Professor Pi smashed my laptop with a large sledgehammer. There are people in the apartment. I can hear them walking around, shouting for me to come out. I won't come out. I'll stay in here and write something. Writing is what keeps me sane and safe.

I sit down and begin to type, but my fingers sit on the home keys and won't move. I see the front page of everything2 sitting there, like a mystic fortress in the night, daring me to even come close to intruding inside of its walls.

I have been stricken in the middle of the head by the stark fist of removal.

Pseudo_Intellectual tried to smother my father with a sheet of asbestos. I know I had a bag of dog food. I know I just did. Where did I put it?

Upgrade your grey matter, cause one day it may matter
Upgrade your grey matter, cause one day it may matter
Upgrade your grey matter, cause one day it may matter
Upgrade your grey matter, cause one day it may matter
 Upgrade your grey matter, cause one day it may matter
Upgrade your grey matter, cause one day it may matter

I sit down with notepad open and try to write something new, but the keyboard stops responding.

I type in

I had a wonderful dream last night.

but the screen read

They all hate you, you know.  Yes, they do.  Every one of them.  
The editors are deleting all of your work as you failingly try to type.  
The others are all laughing at you.  
Yes, your pitiful excuses for text are being eliminated from the world 
like a bit of spilled milk on the linoleum.

I quit. I give up. I rip my DSL connection from the wall. I pull the power cord out from the back of my computer. I fall into a sickened lump on the floor.

Yet still I can hear them all laughing at me. FlamingWeasel stole my pet hamster. Still they crowd in on me like a blanket of suffocation. Tem42 ate my last bowl of Quisp.

I must type something of coherence.
I must type something of coherence.
I spot my old IBM typewriter with a fresh sheet of paper still in it.

The man and the woman slept in the bed.
The man and the woman slepd in the bed.
THe man and the woman slept in the bed.
The mna and the woman sletp in the bed.
THE man and teh wmoan selpt in teh bd.
THE man andthaewomon slept inthebed
the mananwoamaneslep

You are beautiful, aren't you?