Angry. No. Disappointed. That's the word: that's how he felt. Disappointed with their ingratitude. Or was it ingratitude? He wasn't so sure. Not at all sure. It wasn't ingratitude. It couldn't be ingratitude, for that would imply that he had provided something that should have made them grateful. He didn't expect gratitude; he expected a response. He expected to be noticed. He was disappointed that he hadn't been noticed. He was upset that he had been ignored. Or at least that's how it seemed to him. He was having doubts. He asked himself what right he had to expect to be noticed, and to be disappointed and upset when he wasn't? He didn't have an answer. Rationally he knew that he had no claim on anyone: that he had no right to demand attention. Yet. However. He wanted to be irrational. He doubted that people were meant to be rational. At least not all the time. People need to express themselves; they need to get angry and upset. It is a way of confirming that you are alive, that you feel, that you care. That you are not a machine performing calculations. That's where the utilitarians went wrong: they denied our right to irrationality. They rejected our humanity. To hell with the greatest good for the greatest number. He refused to accept he was a number. He would rather be ignored.