Current wallow

Which takes me to my present situation. To the current state of emptiness and self-pity.
CENSORED But describing the situation would not only be tedious and predictable and cliché it would be extremely boring.
I rather mope and complain about the state of things.
CENSORED  
This state of willingful blindness is to me at once incomprehensible and unfair. Why are some people allowed to get away with murder? Why are decent people overlooked in favor of bullies? Worst of all, you tend to generally get it in the neck later, when you are listening to their whining and complaining of why it always happened to them, and no sooner are you trying to be comforting and supportive, but only for a very short time after that they go off with the same character once again and you wonder why you bothered. It's like a spiral you cannot get out of. Worse still, those people and women that you like and or fall in love with are normally close to you, and you get to experience their "adventures" with somebody else first hand, as if having a broken heart wasn't already bad enough.
It's not fair, it's not right, and it sucks big time. Why should we always be the ones to look away? Just because we have an ounce of common decency that should not be an excuse for others to be exponentially cruel, unintentionally and unconsciously or not.
Women of the world, get with it. Work it out. Look around you. There are probably people that actually do care and like you, if you only you were to see it.
Do you know what the funny thing after only this is? This time around I thought I would be feeling much worse. I have fallen in love before, and for different reasons, it didn't work out. But I felt angry. Or very sad. I felt a lot. Now I don't. It kinda reminds me of a line in this song by the Smashing Pumpkins: "The more you grow, the less you feel." I don't think I have understood that until now. That is the fallacious ambivalence of my feelings: sadness without despair, despair without anger, anger without passion. A new state of being.
I'll leave now with the immortal words of Under the Bridge by the Chillis:
"It's hard to believe
That there's nobody out there
It's hard to believe
That I'm all alone
At least I have her love
The city she loves me
Lonely as I am
Together we cry"