I look up and blame the heavens for my poor fate.

I look around me and blame society.

I look within me and blame myself.

To chastise the gods for their lack of existence,

To chastise the heroes for their excessive humanity,

To chastise oneself for one’s lack of power,

We live, from day to day, regretting our existence

An existence so bland and monotonous it suffocates us.

It is this very state of blandness that our ancestors have struggled to reach,

but why should feats accomplished by others bring me joy?

I would readily regress, and struggle through life once more.

All the riches in the world are meaningless if I have not obtained them myself.