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Perfection is a lie. Beauty is what survives the breaking.
What is fire but the soul’s refusal to freeze?
the trees do not mourn.
They simply rot in silence.
The void has no answers. Wear its silence anyway.
In the face of uncertainty, we find both terror and liberation. The void is not an end but a canvas for humanity’s boundless imagination.
“I want to suffer so that I may love”