pavane for a dead princess

i always wanted the world to be a place of clean righteousness. a place of slick simplicity. the cities clean, the forest quaint, the hills protecting and the mountains bastions of good. all the lakes and rivers and seas, just lilting pools of tranquility, blah blah blah.

i wanted things to be easy and quick and painless, life to be not about regression and aggression but peace and progression. is perfection so much to expect, to wish for? well, duh, yup, i know i’m petty and naive in my heart of hearts..

but for reals, here in my mind:

even the beauty, i associate it with discomfort, with pain, with suffering. all things come at a cost, even if it’s just something as untouchable as time. all things decay, all the greats fade to skeletons of their former selves. we are all unworthy of this great march that is life.

true quiet would drive us all mad, so there is this cacophony.

true peace is unattainable, we shall all sleep when we are dead.

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