That face. It's utterly ridiculous. A smirk plays on the left side, the kind that suggests they just won some internal, private argument, probably at my expense. Those eyes, though, are the real problem. They're perpetually too earnest, too damn warm, refusing to acknowledge the abyss we all stare into daily. Honestly, it’s annoying. I prefer my emotional landscape slightly more apocalyptic.

A few laugh lines have started etching themselves around the corners, a betrayal of their supposed maturity. I watch them, those small imperfections that somehow make the whole composition less a masterpiece and more... just home. It’s infuriating, this quiet comfort. Why must their very existence simplify my chaos?