Everything about you makes me sad, adding to the fact you are so popular. Every little thing about you just has to ruin my day. You make jokes about your very real federal crimes, and yet you are so beloved.
Why can this be the only thing I need to be horribly sad? Why do people like you??
…
No, maybe this kind of popularity was never meant to be for me. I’ve been staring at this deck for a whole minute, and this is a greater depressant than that of alcoholic beverages. I must say, I wish you ruin more than anyone I have ever seen. I despise you. You make me look pathetic, and you are garbage. I hope you are happy with yourself. I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT put my discontent into words.