Literal Feverish Scribblings Half Finished At Dusk
At the end of Nevermore, every time, I weep.
It isn't the tragedies, which are many, or the mysterious death, which is definitionally predictable. No, it is the song that preludes his death. A rejection of fate, of the sweeping winds and tides of fortune, a Nietzchean call to arms. And then he dies. It is the horror of never escaping that cruel mistress, of never owning one's life. The real tragedy is a life lived without agency.
I don't, and never will, fear death.
If anything, I fear a life... unlived.
Currently Listening: Nevermore - When Edgar Met Elmira (listen/watch)
Written On: Home Computer
Alternate Title: I Wish They Would Just Release A Soundtrack