And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?

the thing about iron is not that it cuts. the thing is that when it crushes you, you sink beneath it and it pins you to the ground. but don't be afraid of the ground. its surface may hurt you, but it's just because it's the closest place to life. when you come close to the ground, you feel the lightness of your soul longing to be weighted down by the body of the other. you smell that initial and primordial something that was what made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human. you hear the soft voice of the dead czech writer whispering that the heaviest of burdens is simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. and then you finally understand why neil young is so sure when he yells that rock-n-roll will never die. and it's just because it's the only possible soundtrack of those who assume physical love is violence and there's no point in disguising it. all the contrary: it's beautiful and when you face it for real, you can't help looking at it.
i just don't get why it has to be so difficult, if all i want is to have a quiet and simple life hearing to the sound of this violence, while all the boring deceptive devices and euphemisms are burning. and i feel fine, cause i know the verse already - it's only castles burning.

and i'll never be the princess inside.