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Sometimes, the good does not prosper. Sometimes, it is best that we become naive like an infant and draw ourselves away from reality like an unborn child. Sometimes, we just wish that we weren’t born, but it is never our choice. Maybe, I hope maybe, there’s a better good amidst the dark cloud that envelops us. Now, we hush into complete silence, and sleep in the vast expanse of paradise.
In paradisum.
