It was just about then, that he noticed that his entire existence was merely an incarnation of everything he had thought wrong with the world. He was the embodyment of the absurdity that formed society. He was the sort who he himself would mock, while riding on the bus, or while shopping at K-Mart.
He was, however, able to chuckle at this.
"Ha ha," he chuckled.
Laughter is good. Its the cure to all our ills.
Of course, his laughter could be described as desperate laughter. The laughter one creates when they don't know what else to do. The laughter one forms when they have decided that suicide is not the answer. The laughter that soon fades, as they decide they were wrong.
Listen for the laughter. Listen to the blade slicing the soft flesh.
"Ha ha," I chuckled.