I wonder if the reason we start wars is that sadness is inevitable, and we need something to back it up. Do we pick fights because we are chickens who cannot have forgotten being eggs?
(Eggs preceded, by the way. They have been around since since feathers lacked function as well as form. I have never understood that particular debate. Still, no need to start a war.)
I wonder if we kill each other because we would feel sadness either way, which makes us angry, which makes us sad.
The world has been sad this week. My world has been sad. We lost a friend who made us laugh. One of our bravest knights fell on his sword, leaking sadness into a place that used to keep sadness away.
But sun yields shadow.
So, I wonder, if there was no war, if we neither gave nor received awards, if there was no such thing as success, what we would find in our lives that was hard.
When I was poor, poverty seemed unbearable and mean.
When I was out of love, the only solution seemed to get back in it.
But I still get sad sometimes.
So I wonder, do we as humans create tragedy because tragedy innately lives within.
Do we come up with ideas, or do we simply write them down.