- Why do I feel lonely in a crowd?
- Why does every doctor have a handwriting which looks like a 1-year old trying to get nasty with a pen and paper?
- How is the pharmacist able to read the prescription of any doctor, while others can’t read even one?
- Why do I get angry for little nothings?
- Why do I choose to be a pacifist for big somethings?
- Why do I torture myself mentally for a fault which is not mine?
- Why is it that I want to talk to my mother when I wallow in self-pity?
- Why is my mother the only person I know who can bring me back out of the vortex?
- Is it a gift or a curse to be unable to hate anybody?
- Why is the world so ruthless?
- Why do I want to live in a wonderland, and not come to terms with the harsh realities?
- Why do I have the feeling that I’m not doing what I am supposed to do?
- Why, then, is this feeling so fickle?
- How do I find enough topics to talk for 45 minutes every other day to my mom?
- Is there a meaning in another dimension to my idiosyncrasies?
- Who am I?