I wish I lived in a world where everything had meaning, where everything had a purpose. A world that made sense, not just to itself but to me. A world that that was evolving to a state of harmony and peace, one where I could live in peace, forever.

But I think I live in a very different kind of world: a world that knows me not, that cares not for me, an infinity of indifference bounded only by oblivion. This kind of world may seem cruel, but it is not, it is simply unfolding the way it should, indeed, the only way it can. We try to force it into our wishes because we are alone and afraid and refuse to recognize both our insignificance and our mortality. We demand it serve us and shelter us instead of just being thankful for being here at all.

But my world does offer beauty, and surprise, and it never lies to me. And sometimes, it is delightful.