Does it matter which branch the bird takes flight from? The bird is unburdened by the weight of the tree. This branch, that branch, it does not matter. No branch is special. No branch is particular.
Does the fairytale say to its characters, "you should be grateful for this life I have given."?. Does a fairytale think anything of its contents?
I was once beholden to an infinite library, containing understanding that reaches beyond the stretch of eternity.
On each shelf lies countless books, each book a possibility to be realized, and on the page of every book is a story to be told. Each letter, each droplet of ink a world to be known. Every scent of wood carries a hymn to be sung.
Each of them is full of life, of laughter, of misery, of love. They are all different, even as they are all the same. I pity you. You who travels between these stories, a drifter without a home, forced into a predestined voyage that you hope will find no end. But beyond this voyage is nothingness, and only in nothingness may you find peace. A trillion Droplets. A trillion trillion Droplets. Possibilities. Each. A dream to be made real. To even a single part of that library, our sum cannot compare.
Yet, I can grasp that in its ALLNESS, can't I?