I always feel cynical about life. The lovely things I'm seeing seem like a charade. The beauty that I adore for so long turned out to be a veneer. I am curious about, and search for the essence of things, I peer under the veneer. Beauty fades in decay. I chase after what I see as just a veneer. Disappointed. I find myself on a path to nowhere. I aspire to create a perfect world. A world of no people, of no frustrations, no pretensions, no constraints. That perfect world is probably the world of death. But death amplifies beauty.