The Only Time You Truly

Because There Is No Meaning To Be Found In The Arbitrary Nature Of Things., It's All Random. Just As Space Is Blue. And Birds Fly Through It.

We Don't Like Admitting This, But It Is A Key Component Of Human Existence: The Fact That Life Has The Potential For Things Both Wondrous And Horrific.

We All Want To Fix Things. Just As We All Believe That So Much In Life Can Be Rectified. Mend Fences, Build Bridges, Reach Out, Engage In Mutual Healing.

But What We Can Never Do Is Change The Story That Has Made Us What We Are. It's A Story Completely Dictated By The Accumulation Of Life's Manifold Complexities—its Capacity For Astonishment And Horror, For Sanguinity And Hopelessness, For Pellucid Light And The Most Profound Darkness. We Are What Has Happened To Us.

There Is Much To Be Said For Solitude.