Life is hard
I'm not even sure how I got this far
Do you know? How you made it so far?

Every year, we get another birthday. The people who feel the most obligated will throw a party 'celebrating your birth'.
No one really believes that though, right?
In the end it's just about crazing attention and closeness, and also about receiving gifts and things to try to make you happy...
Make them happy.

'Cause ya'see... we're all born with this VOID inside of us.
That void pulls in everything nearby, pulling us to try out new things.
And like a greedy child the void whispers in our ear... asking us to get closer to some people or further from others...
to like one thing, but dislike the other.
For your happiness, and their's.

But... what IS a void exactly?
A space with nothing in it.
It doesn't hold the capability to hold anything really, like a  black hole.
Whatever goes in... we're not sure where it goes, but it's very greedy in it's own way.

By the time we die, some will feel lucky enough and happy enough with the life they've lived, and die without regrets.
...
I don't think I'll ever be able to say that... just... to feel that way.
It doesn't sit right.
Like giving myself this... holy title, saying "I did it, I've reached a perfection in my life and I'm happy. There's nothing wrong."
"I've fulfilled my purpose."

I find that so vain.
Is that strange?
I just... feel like I'm never going to truly be happy.
Not forever, and not even until death.

But what does sadness even achieve? Or anger? Jealousy?
Why, if that'd only make you less happy?
More attempts in vain to fill the growing void.

In the end, that void is filled with darkness.
The darkness of death
Whether it be from a natural death from old age, or an accident,
or even from successful suicide.

A dark void gets plugged up with more darkness, and there's no light.
We have no way of knowing what's there...
after we die, and all.

And isn't that scary?
Such a dark uncertainty.
So while we age and push ourselves through life.
No matter what, at some point, we'll all think or say...
Life is hard.

Like fireflies against a black curtain,
The stars dance around the snowy-white moon.
Glowing brightly, like a lunar wild fire,
The full moon shines down on a field of purity.
Heavenly white blooms shimmering silver,
Like teardrops, they sparkle and shine.
A small gust blows and gentle chimes are heard;
The sweet melody of the majestic flowers.
Bittersweet thorns and melancholy leaves
Sway as if dancing in the striking moonlight.
'Tis the song heard in the field of the Twilight Rose.