Why is life so painful?

Why must people struggle through long years, from birth to death, laden with suffering? No matter how many times I raised my gaze to the heavens, asking tens, hundreds of times, no answer ever came.

As if it was only natural.

When the wind blows, grass bends, and fallen apples nestle into the ground’s embrace. Perhaps the shape of life is inherently such that we must endure it. That silence seemed to carry this message.

If so—if life is a hell designed to relish pain—

Then, even if I act a bit worse, even if …