Life doesn't give you lemons.

It gives you s*** to deal with and it watches and laughs as you try to get out of the rapidly growing maze of problems of death and loss and fail again and again.

Lemons do rot, after all.

Life sits back and relaxes as your friends and family turn their backs on you and run away and desert you. People you thought who loved you hate you, and the ones who you thought supported you drag you down beneath them and crush you until you are beaten and bruised and worthless.

Lemons can be dropped, after all.

Life shows no emotion as you lock yourself away from the world and bottle up your feelings with a razor blade as you sit alone in the darkness.

Lemons can be juiced, after all.

Life closes its doors on you as you put a bullet in the gun and take aim in the mirror's reflection.

Lemons can be thrown away, after all.