– Is alone
– Is utterly, cosmically incapable of seeing other peoples’ points of view
– Spends its time hurting itself and others
– Absolutely hates being alone
– Doesn’t know how not to be in today’s world
– Is self-consciously careening toward middle age as a bunch of self-identified lonely people
– Who won’t trust anyone enough to sacrifice anything to change the problem anyway
We are miserable. I don’t have a single friend or acquaintance that I can point to and say, “Oh, there’s a happy person.” One or two who try very hard to appear happy but are really like Nagasaki inside, and that’s about it, the rest don’t even make the claim. Most everyone spends a lot of time with me in chit chat agreeing that we are all very unhappy and alone in the middle of an existential novel about ourselves.
But nobody seems capable of doing anything to change it. At times it seems as though we all absolutely hate each other and put each other on trial continuously.
Clearly our parents’ generation has failed miserably at something or other.