We forget. Time blurs our memories of these common tragedies of yesteryear.
Madness string 3227
I'm not okay. People keep asking me how I am, standard greeting and all, but rather than lie I just tell them they don't want to know, or stop asking that. I haven't been okay for months, perhaps years.
I do things without reason. This throws people off; they expect reason and rationalisation and order. This amuses me greatly as they appear to have no reason behind their desire for reason.