Sometimes, when you think about everything, and remember the pain you've felt, and how you've acted and everything up to this point, you'll just feel like a fool. A damn fool, and you'll want to scream it at the top of your lungs, of how stupid you are, how idiotic, how juvenile, how hopeless.

No one loves a fool. No one loves a clown. They may be well liked, they might be fun to be around, to laugh at and bring you a smile, but that's all they're good for. That smile they wear is a facade after all, just face paint and lipstick.

Anyway, a well-meaning clown gives his final performance. Despite all the smiles and happiness he's brought to all these people, in a year or less, he won't even be remembered. Its hard to be so inconsequential. Why would he want to bring happiness if he didn't care? Ah well.