I've always wondered if I had an entire book in my head waiting to be written. Here goes. If I could meet everyone in this room, what would I gain? To the left, a man about 22, with side burns is doing an online class. Directly in front of me there is a woman, who is looking at websites for other colleges. I should look for other colleges.

I feel like I'm living in a bubble. The boy in the bubble — I know how that feels. I think if I type long enough something will happen, but I don't know what that is.

I am always confused by the praises I receive and attention. My teachers often flatter me in public. Why is that? I don't even like most of them. OK, so they are mostly decent people, but I didn't sign up to be anyone's pet.

I had a pet cat Maggie.

I think I can always be friends with an innocent creature or child. They usually have trouble with even basic needs, but at the same time they want to feel needed. It is easy to be a friend to them. Unlike the rest of everything, all you need is love, which especially includes patience, and understanding. I could look into the eyes of my cat, and know exactly how she feels. It really seems like those who have the greatest needs, also have the greatest draw to those who love them.

You can call it desperation, but I cannot let the noblest quality be immediately insulted. Maggie got run over by a blue van. She didn't die, but she hurt her ribs and soft tissue, very painful. I don't understand why mistakes can ruin the lives of the simple and kind the most easily. I slept down by where she slept, in a cot. She could barely walk, and I could see the pain in her eyes. She got out of her bed while I slept and curled up underneath my cot.

I don't deserve to be treated so nicely. How is it that those who are the most sensitive to others must be sensitive to everything?

Why is it that I am some kind of wildly attractive person for the loneliest people? Seriously, I wonder what I do, say or don't say that makes all the lonely people come to me and hang around. I don't think all my fingers and toes are enough to count this phenomenon. It's like that Axe Spray that makes the women go wild, except it's not a spray. It's me. I need to find some profession where when lonely people come to me I make money. Sounds sick. New topic.

Pete

There once was a man named Pete. Who didn't have something to eat. He looked for a clue, and instead found some glue. Now he's stuck to his seat.

Gasoline

How far does a car need to be pushed, to get to the gas station? Not that far, if you don't need the gas.

Dull knives

How come a knife can cut loaves of bread and steaks, but will barely break the skin of a person's hands? Maybe the knife isn't sharp as it was cut out to be.

Running fingers

How far can my fingers run on a keyboard, and somehow go nowhere? How much work must be done so that there is no more to do? Can work really be directed, or does it just occur, and results are only eventually correct.

JD scares himself

JD finds out that he is perfectly anonymous in a crowd of people, unless there was someone mean, in which case he always stuck out as a target. This scares him so bad that he forgets the thought entirely.

Now he begins to believe the exact opposite. People must be watching him, and spying on his every move, because the real truth is too unbearable not to be buried. He may never know that the real reason it scares him is that no one kind person ever paid any attention at all. How can JD conquer the fear which is the exact opposite of the reasons for his true emotions? Should he tell someone about it?

He doesn't know yet that he doesn't know his real fears. He might tell all, and then be even lonelier from it with the stares of people right through his person. Or he might run away from everything, shut his blinds, and keep all the doors locked all the time in paranoia. Maybe he'll look in the vents to see if a hidden camera was placed inside. He will dig a cave in the mountain, lock it up tight, and find only his fears increasing. Everything JD does to fight the feeling makes it worse. All of us can see why, plain as sky, but for JD there is no sky.

Fixing some pipes

There was a powerful generator built years past, very complicated. An engineer decided to find the point of greatest loss in efficiency in the system. He found it. A pipe was meandering through which carried hot steam. If it were straight, there would be virtually no loss. So he organized a crew to build a bypass for this pipe. It was the smart thing to do after all.

The real story of JD is not about pipes.

The sacrificial anode of love

JD's story is like the one with many coins that shined brightly, but one coin that was right in the middle was obviously pale with rust. Amazingly all these coins were the same age, nearly the same mint actually. That one coin had traveled much farther to get here, perhaps a different alloy, but it was not any older. It sure looked older. All these coins made up a collection, and as time passed only this one coin seemed to age, all the rest would continue to shine.

Now the collection was sold and a man saw that one coin, which didn't belong. How obviously it didn't belong. So he threw it out. Soon then the coins all turned pale, they were rusting now too. How can throwing out that one diseased coin do more harm than keeping it around?

Great metal ships have been protected for years from rust by this principle. A sacrificial anode is placed with direct connection to the ship's hull, but also in contact with the corrosive sea water. Because the sacrificial anode is a more strongly reactive metal, it draws the corrosion away from the rest of the ship, and brings it all upon itself. This anode then corrodes at a far accelerated rate, and is replaced frequently so that the ship can stay rust free. One small part of the whole takes upon the whole burden, and looses its shine quickly, while the rest shines, only because of it.

Is it possible that the palest of human coins are actually sacrificial anodes to the rest of us? Are there people that attract the corrosive elements of society by some distinct characteristic? Maybe they were struck in another mint; they traveled farther, and now only find themselves dull in a pile of those who shine. Do these human sacrifices see what they are to others, or do they too look at themselves and feel as out of place as everyone else sees them to be. What and how can a sacrificial anode decide not to make the sacrifice?

The only way in chemistry is to disconnect from the rest and from the corrosive world itself. But does this help? Maybe it's a relief. Then again maybe the sacrifice isn't a big deal after all. I think the big deal is that the rest of the ship shines, but refuses the anode as though it had no chance to brighten it. Who can blame the shiny city for being disgusted with a single bad element?

Maybe this one coin or this one ever continuing sacrifice of anodes is like JD who was so frightened by a lack of positive attention that he started to fear and mind all attention as negative influx.

Or maybe being unnoticed positively was JD's first delusion while the fear of being spied upon was actually justified.

When no bright inspiring individual will shine for me, soon enough I will also wonder if anything real shines. And now anyone feeling this will run away from everything only to discover worse pain. Maybe JD begins to see that all the weak elements attract to him, and the rest will look the other way for the corrosion it causes. When pain is strong, only the visible opposition can be fought, and so JD turns to his own path, to be alone. He forgot that the sacrifice does not hurt when it might give hope to the world. Even if just one of those shining around him could look at him as though he shines; well that would be good enough.

Somehow I imagine a coin made from Magnesium, very good sacrificial anode, which may corrode quickly, but is amazing how bright it shines when it starts off.

I don't mean to look at things so negatively. Aluminum corrodes so fast it actually protects itself, and seals out the corrosion. These days everything has aluminum. You know, for that sacrifice to society all will doubt the value of the dull coin which results, except that dull coin will ever see the shine within itself, which is beyond the view of all mortal eyes.