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Little things set me off. The little things make me happy. They make me sad. They make me hit you. I can let the big things go. Sure, for a bit the big things bombard me, but really, I get over them. Little things eat me up inside. I could care less that you are a bigoted, racist a*****e. But that face you made that one time. Dear Lord, I wanted to kill you so that face would go away.