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all the people....all the goddamn people who love every goddamn other person, and they're all happy and prancing in the freaking meadows.....stupid fawning happy people with their stupid heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. Everybody's got somebody. Love is a goddamn ******** piece of s**t. s**t. There is no meaning to our existence except to wander aimlessly in pain and hope for some mild relief before we drop down dead. Or maybe we just cry in little wombs of paper comfort, waiting for the day when we can be released to a world where we are actually loved by someone. But no, that would be much too pleasant, for the day will never come. Not even if you've been waiting for it for months. It will never come, and every time we get hope it will just get squashed and trampled when we realize those who once loved us have moved on, away, onto loving someone else, leaving us in our paper wombs, wondering just when we became so goddamn miserable.