... with your interests in mind.

End

It’d be rude to die in the middle of a conversation. One I’m ending right now.

"Hal?"

"Get out."

Because I can’t. I can barely deal with people who understand who I am and how...

It'd be rude to die in the middle of a conversation. One I'm ending right now.

Then I’d have to dance around everyone else. And that’s not something I’m particularly fond of doing. I’m tired of being here. I don’t want to be here. So why make me?

But why?  Why do you have to dance?  Why not just stop dancing and be direct?  What have you got to lose in the attempt?

Because I can't. I can barely deal with people who understand who I am and how I function and–hell, practically everything important about me. I don't have the patience, and I don't want to do it anymore.

here. And I’m talking about everything. This stupid fucking tango of dancing around people I live with because they’ve all got lives of their own and, as always, I don’t. And I don’t even want one anymore.

If you don’t want to deal with dancing around the people you live with, move out and live somewhere else.

Then I'd have to dance around everyone else. And that's not something I'm particularly fond of doing. I'm tired of being here. I don't want to be here. So why make me?

What is this ‘this’ you keep referring to precisely?

never fucking do, apparently. Why can’t you just stay out of this?

stand this anymore. Any of it. I’m sick and tired of everything and fucking with people and I just. I want it to stop.

I suppose it’s time to start hacking your systems them.