It always seems that I am one staple short, and everything comes unbound again.
Every day when I wake up, I become a pallbearer.
When mortals abandoned the old pantheon of Gods, we took responsibility for ourselves. The weight that Atlas once bore is now distributed across mankind, but this heaviness is not distributed evenly.
Don’t you sometimes ever wish that you could live in the absense of heaviness? I mean to live the epitome of the “ignorance is bliss” cliche?
Whenever I think of that, I wonder if living like that really is all that better…