Stochastic Fancy: Play the Game and Find True Love

This question pops up on the KloudsKape, and my first thought is: How did they know? I'm in the middle of a downward spiral, almost crying as I choke down my lysine-dopamine smoothie and hunch over the teak bar at the Zyme Shack. As with all these questions, I don't even have to ponder before I answer with an eyeblink--it's lonesome, of course. Something about the way you have to purse your lips for a nonexistent kiss at the end of the word, the extra weight of that second syllable--the word lonesome is definitely more miserable. Soon I've answered a dozen other questions in the retinal sensorium, about everything from Koffee Kop to a local bike-lane ordinance, each of them just a sparkly ball rolling around the edges of my vision.