“We think we know people when all we know of is a life of display. The lugubriousness of a gilded cloud that languorously wavers through the expansive sky seemingly without care tells us nothing of its troubles that lay in the void within its very being. To truly know a person is to know of the person’s tragedy, even if there is none; but we are never sure. Therein lies a difficulty of knowing oneself. Yet, the possibility of not knowing our own tragedies is absurd. In the larger context of things, we will never fully know our tragedies situationally because of our limited ability to grasp the entire picture. The gilded cloud does not know the expansive sky, it only knows it is in it, and that it should make the most of it.

The banality of modern love leads us to believe of an all-encompassing answer to life. I think the answer is in believing that there is one. Camus once wrote, “what is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying”. Right.”