People feel sorry for themselves, sometimes .

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 People feel sorry for themselves. I do, too. 


 I think about what I have sacrificed. The certainty of a very lonely life ahead. I'm at peace, yet I still feel sorry for myself. I guess it's self love. 


 It's one ill that I cannot eliminate. 


 I've been struggling with this for a while now. Been trying to find out. Is everything a trade-off? Is everything an equation? Is everything in some kind of stasis? Is the rule here to maintain status quo? 


 I can't think of anything more devastating, but I need to know. Arguing about this is difficult even on a theoretical level, but I have to try. 



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The Suppliant Maidens ( Aeschylus ) - translated by G. M. Cookson

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The Suppliant Maidens 
 Aeschylus 
- translated by G. M. Cookson -

D R A M A T I S   P E R S O N A E 
DANAUS PELASGUS , King of Argos AN EGYPTIAN HERALD CHORUS OF THE DANAIDES
ATTENDANTS

Argos. A Hill rises in the foreground, and on the summit of it stand altars and statues of many gods. Enter the fifty DANAIDES, with their slave girls, and DANAUS. 

Chorus
Zeus, the Suppliant's God, be gracious to us, pitifully behold us, for fugitives are we; where the blown sand-dunes silt the mouths of Nilus, there we took the highway of the blue, salt sea; there looked our last at the land of Zeus, her borders lapsed and lost in the Syrian marches wild, fleeing, not as outlaws banned for blood-guilt lest a people perish, but self-exiled. 
No way but this to escape abhorred embraces, marriage rites unholy that true love shuns; better far lands and unfamiliar faces than wedded and bedded with King Ægyptus' sons. 
As when hard pressed on the board a cautious player this piece or that from a threatened squ…
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