Monster by Design It’s no big secret; I say it constantly. I have little to no interest in the lives of people because I feel so detached from them. Their constant ravings, rantings, ratings tire me. They bored me. Their emotions are misplaced, misused and misunderstood. I’m not depressed because I hate people; I hate people because I’m depressed. And that depression is my only link to them. I avoid interactions where I have to play the role of ordinary, every day guy. I despise talking to the security guard who thinks his job is to eye-fuck every woman with well-endowed breasts. I don’t play well with others whose personalities seem as fabricated as – yet, an extremely exaggerated version of – mine. I…