All beings on this planet come from the eternal life of peace, where you are free from challenge and unburdened from the repercussions of soul-destroying personal futility at your lack of power, for no progress can be made in Utopia, and all are content with the way it is. But some of those choose to face hardship for a story to tell, to bring back experience and open their minds.

I am one of those beings.

I chose the path of Man on this planet to test my resolve against a world that isn't free, all-loving and without pain, to see if I can become someone who can build myself up and tolerate it. The more pain I experience and still manage to make it through, the greater I have become and the better I shall be for it.

An easy life, born to wealthy parents, with a life plan and ease ahead of me would be an insult to the vast power I hold, and I would never realise those lessons or come to the senses of my greatness unless my steadfastness was hammered directly into the impenetrable wall of suffering. No, the path of ease was not destined for me. I was thrown well down the ladder into the pit of vipers, who lash and bite and snap their tails at me as I try to climb out. But falling deeper, descending down beneath the pain, I could be reforged into a creature coated in scars so deep that no dagger could penetrate the scaley exoskeleton formed of past struggle. To suffer physically, and suffer by the soul, is to self-remedy both to the hardships of the future.

A life lived in hopelessness has its own form of hope, for an end is inevitable, and all this shall go. But when that existential dread of being a failure is changed to the temporary being being plowed through untilled soil, where loam is mixed with rock and root, the tool itself shall be eroded down to a nub, but the field-greater itself shall be vastly improved through it. When the tool and the field are one in the same, the suffering is merely a reflection of a greater purpose, however unclear it might be to the mortal frame.

Every day I exist in pain, I smile, because I know that hurt and struggle are guiding forces that I must abide by as a master so that when I perish from this plane, I ascend back to a perfect world where upon I shall rest with ease, as one should feel when lying back on a bed after a hard days labour, feeling everything decompress and fade away into the night.

Here is a compartmentalised view of life - notice how futile it is, that any growth is merely a causality of its surroundings. Do you think the plant feels pain to know of its utter meaningless? It may, but that pain and suffering and anguish and absolute fucking despair is what its purpose is.