Ever felt like the world is a downright ugly place, that doesn't get any better day after day? Surely the despair is all-encompassing...surely. There is no comfort at the conclusion of this realization, no...no, nothing. Nothing—such a devastatingly pure word...purely devastating. Where is the hope; where has Hope gone? No, no hope—nothing. H'm, reflections into the conscious mind, into the so-called spirit, are stark—black. There is no use to it, no purpose: "Nothing to be done". Then why think, why this? Yes—why? No point asking why. Why draws one into an endless circle; no use, no purpose. No greater pain pangs me than this—a heart that has no one to love. But there is purpose, use; purpose to determine that there is none—