Social anxiety. That's what my psychiatrist called it, at least. I don't know, I never really bothered to slap a label onto it. I have just had a really hard time around other people. Nothing ever clicks. I'm into one thing, they're into another. I try to make a joke, and no one finds it funny. I'm personally perfectly happy being a shut away and never communicating with anyone, but I'm told that's no way to live.

Not that I especially care what other people tell me.

However, thanks to the work of a rather peculiar psychiatrist, I may be getting into people's heads a lot more than I'd like to.

Not that they care, I mean why would you care if you're dead?

Now I'm in a world torn apart by war and conquest, with an army of bugs who call themselves 'changelings' that want me dead, and some sort of 'resistance' that is unsure how to feel about me.

Things just keep getting better and better.