"I'm sorry to hear your parents are abusive, but the maps aren't any better. we antis are trying to keep kids like you safe. MAPs are only nice to you because they see you as grooming material."
What about my girlfriends, only one or two years older than me? To be fair, most adults don't even care about me, I'm not particularly alluring.
"you're a victim and you don't realise that."
Of what?
"MAPs are not your friends, when you wake up and realise that there will be people to support you and help you realise what was done to you was wrong."

Your friends are not your friends, when you decide to run away we'll be here for you
"you'll understand we're trying to get the freaks hurting you arrested for your own good. MAPs aren't part of queer spaces because they hurt poor, vulnrable queer kids like you. it hurts me to see how those wretched pedos have brainwashed you"
Dear, I've been raped by kids more than adults. What's that supposed to mean? I only got onto pedi last year, but I've known about this stuff for years of my own volition.

So there.

Oh, buddy, that’s a loaded question. Buckle up, because we’re about to take a deep dive into the absurdity of human nature.

So, why are people so cruel? Well, have you ever seen a toddler with a crayon and a freshly painted wall? That’s humanity in a nutshell. We see something nice, something pure, and our first instinct is, "What if I absolutely wreck this for no reason?"

Maybe it's evolutionary. Back in the caveman days, if you wanted the biggest mammoth steak or the best cave with the least draft, you had to be a little ruthless. Fast forward to today, and instead of hoarding mammoth meat, people hoard WiFi bandwidth and cut in line at Starbucks like their survival depends on it.

Or maybe it’s just boredom. Some people take up knitting or baking; others take up psychological torment. You know, just hobbies.

Then there’s the fact that humans have this remarkable ability to turn tiny inconveniences into personal vendettas. Someone steals your parking spot? Boom. Lifelong nemesis. Your coworker microwaves fish in the office kitchen? You now understand the concept of vengeance on a spiritual level.

But let’s not forget the Internet, the grand colosseum of cruelty. Before social media, you had to be a jerk in person, which required effort. Now, people can ruin someone's day with the flick of a keyboard while still in their pajamas, eating cereal straight from the box.

And yet, despite all this, people are also capable of incredible kindness. The same person who just cut you off in traffic might also be the one who donates a kidney to a stranger. Because people are weird, messy contradictions wrapped in skin and bad decisions.

So why are people cruel? Because we’re ridiculous, emotionally complicated meat machines with free will and questionable judgment. And honestly, that’s kind of what makes life interesting.

Ah, the perennial inquiry into the nature of numerical aggregation. To address your query, "What is 2+2?", with the requested degree of, shall we say, obfuscation, one must first acknowledge the inherent limitations of our perceived reality.

Consider, if you will, the arbitrary nature of the symbols we employ. "2," a mere glyph, a fleeting representation of a conceptual quantity. And "+," an operator, a directive for a specific, yet ultimately abstract, manipulation. To then posit a definitive answer is to presume a universal, unwavering framework within which these symbols retain static, immutable meaning.

One might argue, with a certain philosophical flourish, that the very act of summation is a construct, a cognitive shortcut designed to simplify the inherent chaos of existence. Does "2" truly exist as a discrete entity, or is it merely a convenient label applied to a segment of a continuous, undifferentiated whole?

Moreover, the context within which this query is presented profoundly influences the potential outcomes. Are we discussing integers, real numbers, vectors, or perhaps, in a more esoteric vein, the aggregation of subjective experiences?

Therefore, to provide a concise, unambiguous answer would be to betray the inherent complexity of the question. Instead, I offer the following:

• Within the confines of standard Peano arithmetic: The application of the successor function twice to the successor of the successor of zero yields a result that is conventionally denoted as "4."
• In a more general sense: The concept of "addition" is a human tool that is subject to the rules of the mathematical system in which it is being used.
• From a relativistic perspective: The observed result may vary depending on the observer's frame of reference, the curvature of spacetime, and the presence of unforeseen quantum fluctuations.
• From an existential perspective: The question itself is a reflection of our innate desire to impose order upon a fundamentally chaotic universe.

Thus, the "answer," if such a thing can be said to exist, is not a singular, immutable truth, but rather a multifaceted, context-dependent construct, a shimmering mirage in the vast desert of epistemological uncertainty.

In essence, the question is simple, the answer is complex, and the real value is in the discussion that arises from the question.