What if the existence of one person was just to live in pain, to suffer? But that isn't the case. Pain is used to humble people, to teach people. People with diseases weren't born to just die. They were born to live. To experience. To love. To feel Everything is different in another's perspective. Life is never just life. Love is never just love. Death is never just death. The things we despise are beautiful just as much as the things we love, but no one seems to realize that. Why? When? What? Where? Who? (Poetry, philosophies, etc) (Art credited to original owner)