I may have a natural inclination to seek and connect with people that have problems. They just seem less mundane and somewhat twice as exciting, yet since they present themselves as natural beacons through my natural goggles, meeting a normal person would throw my world into disordered flux.
As hopeless and pointless as I deem it to help people, I still selfishly find it enjoyable. Now even that has become secondhand. I do what I do, and my reasons for my actions label me “twisted,” but at the end of the day, I really don’t mind having helped someone sprout a smile, regardless of my inability to do the same. A gibbous plastic heart can sometimes be the most luminous item in the dark cellar.
The circus still laughs at midnight.