Today was a day I really could have (and would have) used a shoulder to cry on. Thank you, World, for not allowing me such a crutch. I’m sure, in some mysterious and indescribable way, I’m a better man for being alone. And I’m sure that, years down the road when the sun shines for a day on my life, I will look back upon today as a turning point or a genesis. Because, after all, that’s the sort of irrational and idiotic faith in the nature of nature that we’re taught as small, irrational and idiotic children to adopt, and who am I to disagree? Nobody, that’s who. Nobody.

  Of all things tired thy lips look weariest,
Save the long smile that they are wearied of.

Swinburne, from Hermaphroditus

NP: silence, finally