Imagine yourself sitting down in the kitchen table staring at a single plate of jello sitting before you. It sits there and continues to jiggle while nothings touching it. Doesn't it look so... happy and carefree? And that pisses you off, 'cause you think, "WHY AM I NOT LIKE THAT!? HOW CAN A LOAD OF ARTIFICIAL COLORING AND WATER LOOK SO HAPPY?!" So you stab it with your fork repeatedly until there's nothing left but little clumps of jello all over the place. You suddenly become sad to think that you've destroyed something, but say to yourself, "Fuck it. If I can't be happy, nothing in this house should be happy either" and you take a bite of that delicious gooey... stuff. Yeah. You've just compared your emotions to a freakin' plate of jello. All the pointless artists in the world applaud in pure joy, crying out, "One of us! One of us!" Oh well. At least the jello tastes good.
