Friendship is sacred.

Close friendships are rare, and by rare, I mean they don't exist. When you are little you have lots of best friends, but they're just children like yourself who want everything they can get their hands on and give away as little as possible to get it. Where a mutually beneficial exchange presents itself, you both suspiciously agree, and then proceed to consider yourselves best friends. Except me. I sat with my hands folded in the corner of the far corner, looking down so I could see as little of the hateful world as possible, and I drew faces in the sand, and not nice ones.

When you're older, friends again are means to acquire what you normally could not get, and also to satisfy that mammallian need for comfort you unfortunately inherited from those uncouth distant ancestors. Monkeys die without love. So friendship becomes a social bond where everyone can stay biologically healthy, trade for goods and services, and feel generally ok about existing for no reason. Friends are substitutes for reason. But they all want and only give grudgingly, even the best of them. Except the very best of them. I'm tired of writing now.