Eureka!

This one's nothing new or mind-blowing. I think I was reading Kierkegaard at the time.

In the end,

in the moments where we pause,

sitting on our beds,

to listen to the murmur of the wind outside,

fanfare, perhaps, of a just-won football game,

or a cheery gathering of neighbors around a barbecue,

we remember this:

that always,

despite our best efforts to pretend otherwise,

we are hideously,

agonizingly,

desperately,

despairingly alone.

Author's Note

Don't read too much into it--I'm not a nut-case or anything. Mostly this was just done so I could use the word "fanfare."