Don't judge a book by it's cover, is what people always say. It's tattered cover's still hold a story inside. My book is a hard back, leather covered, threadbare, frazzled mess of paper. It's pages are filled with experiences combined with the lack of know-how. My tale is that of a participant, in a journey of trial and error. Mostly error. When I am stressed I write. My words may not illuminate a path, or capture the attention of the lambs. It surely won't open the imagination of the regular white collar supremacist. I would love to say it may bring enlightenment to someone but chances are it won't. Misrepresentation is the highest form of flattery. Slandering words out of someones mouth about me may not be gratifying but I am flattered you thought of me. Now that the introduction of how I feel is out of the way, let me get on with the first chapter. I call it "Rantings of a madman". Although very distant from my usual attempt at having rooted, substantial titles for everything, I feel as though it is the most appropriate for the mark I aim to leave behind. I won't begin by being so forward to assume that I have the capability of describing how any acquaintance of mine would describe me. Although I have only known myself for a short amount of time I have a elegantly clear depiction of who I am. I am a Amphiprioninae living in the wrong region. I am charitable, loving and thoughtful. Everyday life consists of dressing up as a Hymenoptera. I dress in all green, and dawn tan boots. Roses will not wither for want of me. I am the smallest member of the genus Mustela, well it at least makes up my physical features and temperament. I am an animal. I am the authority on camouflaged agony. These last seven years displayed on a graph of emotion would very effortlessly resemble a giant rubber band ball tossed from the highest peak of the Adirondack. It took a while to wrap a Anser indicus in rubber bands. My glass is half full. Chances are it's half full of whiskey. I am no alcoholic. I embrace feeling. Mostly the feeling of numb. I hear Charma is not a very nice lady, and for some I hope she is just a figment of my imagination. My views of equality have led me to be colorblind. My emotions have a very articulate skeletal system. Which makes me a very accomplished Ortopedic surgeon. There are many chapters yet to come due to exasperation being a natural trait of Nancy. The world is filled with Nancy's.