I'm not sure, for all I know, I am Newman, everyone hates me, I have a few small friends, and I work the job that causes people to kill. I know the address of a thousand people in the city I live in, yet I have never had a friendly conversation with any other them, like the people I know, dogs hate me. I could be, I'm usually blind to how people feel about me unless they flat out tell me, and even then I have trouble to really understand. Clothespins break so easily, what you believe are there to make your clothes hang to dry, but then they fall apart when you go to take them off if you don't have them on the perfect center. How are you supposed to rely on those things? You can't trust sock stealers either. What the hell am I supposed to do when I leave this house? We are not allowed to trust anything in this world. love.