Isn't it so?

Too much of the rich, opulent, wholesome, and beautiful, and you'll be sick of it all in no time, without an inferior alternative to juxtapose it all against.

Life is, just as such--even the most ugly, most unpleasant of not-so-beautiful things, not-so-nice people, not-so-pleasant issues and annoyances, have their place in this world--even if only so that the beautiful and nice look beautiful and nice--such is the cruelty of realism and this world.

And when there is too much beauty going around, whizzing past, it becomes simply exhausting to chase after every possible trail, because the potential for disappointment with every try just increases, and the exhaustion just grows, till the beauty no longer excites and stimulates.

Almost every sunset these past two weeks, maybe even three, has been golden and long, the post-sunset dusk stretching long after the sun has set, a gentle blueish glow tinting the sky even after the sun has left--and there are just too many of them to go after already--anyhow, I've got my pretty sunsets, and I guess they're enough to last me for some time, although I missed out on the most fantastic one.

It's not about holding on forever in the blind faith that the best is yet to be, I guess--it's about, just finding one that fits, that you're happy with, and holding strong and steadfast (argh, stupid pledge, who wrote it) by what you've chosen, and learning to love what/whomever it is.

And there you go--yet another completely cryptic entry. Perfect.