At least once during every class period I put a gun to my head and blow my brains out, leaving just enough time to pronounce myself dead on the scene. My spirit drifts off, but not for long.

Back in my body, I see bloody pieces of brain on the floor and sticking to the student next to me. A professor is giving some kind of a lecture.

“What?s that? What did she say?” I ask myself.

I have just missed the most important part of the lecture. This realization will come a month later after seeing the results of my mid-term.

When I was twelve a doctor of sorts diagnosed me with ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). I was present when he informed my mother and father, but I never seemed to remember what exactly was wrong with me. Throughout my teen years, I had to be reminded I “had it.” This made me feel special for about two seconds, before realizing that in the real world this was not a good thing. However those two seconds of feeling special was definitely worth it.

To this day I have still never taken any kind of drug for it. Not because I have wanted to bravely tough it out, but because my mom would never let me take Ritalin. I am now mature enough to realize that even I would never take Ritalin, although some days I feel that just one pill is all that stands between my simple mind and the genius that I know I can be mistaken for.

Sometimes I would tell people about my disorder, and then proceed to explain what it was. One two many of them responded with; “You know, I think I might have that too.” This used to piss me off, but now I cannot help but believe them.

Today, because media moves so fast, there is a lower level of patience for anything that doesn?t travel at the speed of light. Sitcoms, music videos and commercials, are filled with enough edits (cuts) to make ones head spin. Practically everyone is exposed to this. Maybe ADD shouldn?t stand for “Attention Deficit Disorder” but rather “Attention Deficit Disease” contracted mostly through interactions with television sets.

How can we all come to grips with the fact that society is becoming infected? Let?s just diagnose everybody. This will lower the par, allowing me to still feel special as I tell the world that I have “ADD2.” However, just as the world would begin to sympathize, I would announce that I don?t have ADD at all, and I never did. Then with my now superhuman strength, I would shock everyone and do something very unexpected of me: concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.