Man is born to suffer. From the first breath, the first cry, life becomes a burden—an endless quest for survival against the inevitable. It is a show of strength in a twisted and cold world, akin to an old man rediscovering youth. Empty and meaningless, life is a relentless odyssey, a bitter struggle against inevitable decay and ultimate doom.

The wrinkles of old age are deep; they tear at the flesh, marking the passage of time. A series of inexplicable events loops the end of fate back to the beginning, again and again. We are actors in a grim spectacle, struggling against the extinguishing of light.

The journey of life, from birth to death, is a cruel, merciless game. Although it cannot alter the outcome, it can hasten the end. The road before us offers no return, harbors no regrets, and knows no repentance. Time does not turn back; it stops for no one. Everyone is driven relentlessly forward. The direction of the road is unchanging and singular—a path that never folds back upon itself.

The significance of our choices is purely subjective. Even if we delve into the theorem of relativity, the endless chain of reactions continues, prompting interactions across the cosmos. Time does not exist, yet it is eternal. Countless causes and effects weave together into a complex web of parallel existences within a vast universe.

The sadness that envelops eternity is like a soft shadow impossible to remove from a beautiful face. It is a shadow that never fades, growing darker as the sun shines brighter. It is the dark stain on the white veil we try to clean, only to spread the blemish across the entire surface. In our attempts to avoid or cleanse these aspects of existence, we fail to recognize or accept them.

The path we follow is unique and moves in one direction. Regardless of our choices, the depth of our pain and suffering, or the fleeting nature of our happiness, this road is gonna get us killed.