At times (like now), I think that the world is a soulless, joyless place where selfless people struggle. The ones who succeed are the ones who are selfish, but conceal it underneath a subterfuge of warm fluffy things. Things like ‘understanding’, ‘concern’ and ‘love’. For how can we ever know if a person really does understand, or if a person really means it if he or she says “I know what you feel”? We don’t, and probably never will be able to know. All we can do, is trundle along blindly, cross our fingers as tightly as we can, and hope that we survive.