Provably untrue

What the author states here are provably untrue. Do not listen to him. He is a liar of the highest order, an untrustworthy person, and you'd have thought he were a trustworthy person, but you know what, you really can't trust him anymore. He's so untrustworthy. Like, wayyy too much. How do you even have a lesser trust-worthy person than an average person -- is it even possible, because, how... do you even... like, what's even the procedure... The process is not even sure what the process is to to not like what is liked a lot, so it is entirely unclear what is liked and what is not, and what is nice and what is not. I would just like it to be true that some things were better than others. You know what I mean? :-/

Wherein the author states the sad truths of life

Alone and lost, and unsure where to go, I wonder why I am even here. Am I here to live the life I've set for me, or because I've been told to. Is this party a metaphor, for eternity?

And yet leave I don't. Why suffer this existential humiliation? I should go home.

How do somehow end up on my own, every time? Is it me, or has the whole world gone mad.

Why must I suffer those existentially suffering, and why must I suffer, the maddening?

I can go back. Home. It will always hr there. And yet.

I'm uprooted. Emotional tendrils that dig Deep, never made it past.

But not me. I am not the black sheep. I am the one that worked. I refuse my existential ditch.

I am an idiot. A person with poor forethought. Dear Gods! An eternity of poor judgments remain.

Like, who the hell are you even, man.

Just get me out of the party I don't want to be in, someone! I didn't like it the way I should have like it.