Life sucks and I will tell you why. You're feeling down for the millionth time in your life and you decide you will try talking to someone, getting it off your chest. See what the fuss is about right? I mean people are always saying it helps talking to a friend, it lifts you up, makes you feel better and so on. For starters, you have to zero in on someone that could live up to the huge honour you're about to bestow upon them. I mean, they're your problems for crying out loud. Who wouldn't want to listen? Who wouldn't want to scratch beneath the surface and see if the perfect life you appear to lead will give way to untold truths and unseen mysteries. It's about you goddammit, you! The one who always listened but never spoke. Who always wiped away the tears but never shed any. Who always held your hand but never led the way. Finally, you narrow down on that someone who you think would be interested. So the dam breaks and words come tumbling out. Words you never heard yourself say before, words saying things you never thought were true about yourself. You've finally joined the ranks of the pathetically weak and overtly exhibitionist. Maybe it's divine intervention, maybe it's a solid knock on your head but you don't get too far down the road. Misery, you see, not only loves company, misery loves miserable company. So the tables get turned and you are once again the listener. Your comforting ear and shoulder to lean on has suddenly turned into a monstrous motor mouth and all you can now hear is "this reminds me of the time I went through the same thing" or "my situation was worse" or "mine was worse than yours" (whatever you want to imagine here!). Great! The first time you decide to lighten your burden, you fall flat on your face. Life sucks! or did I already mention that?