... 403

The only way for people to go on with their lives is if they believe their lives are of importance. Which isn't so. Sorry, folks. The idea that all people are born equal is beautiful and for a miniscule fraction of time might be even true but once life begins shit happens and your control over your life usually ends up with wiping your butt. Most people are working bees and a working bee can become a queen only in a Disney movie. 

And that truth isn't as tragic as it appears at first, objectively speaking. It is only tragic for the subject who lives in a world of grey and dreams in colors. And to that I can deeply relate. And here's where the transience of life comes to the rescue. To know that in 50 years from now I won't be here to beat my mind with regrets and futile could've-should've-would'ves makes it possible for me to endure my mold and occasionally even enjoy it.

Seriously, what reasons do you have to expect other people to think of you better than you think of them? What makes you more special than them? I'm not special and the sooner I come to terms with that the better. Better for me, of course, because clearly I'm the only one who cares to begin and end with.

Maybe that's why I find comfort in dark music in all of it disturbing down-spiriting/raging variations-because it doesn't pretend to be nice. And maybe because it is the opposite of conformity. Am I so afraid of conformity? Or that vain?