Lila says,

“If you believe in nothing for sure then there is nothing in this world for you.”

No. Lila, I may be a pessimist who will never comprehend anything in this world -No, I am a pessimist who will never comprehend anything in this world, in this life, but even I know that it is beautiful. Of that, I’m certain. I have been religious, I have delved as far into the sciences as my body can submerge, touched, and felt, and known, and loved every art that man has thought to bless this earth with, read the books on his shelves time and time again, I have become one with nature, and I have known love, but none of these things, for me, have ever been for certain. None of these idle feelings last. None that I know. I’m a lost lonely pessimist who doesn’t know Lila. Not that. But still, this world is beautiful; still I know it’s beautiful. I think back on every pain I have ever felt, the deepest agonies I have known. The moments where I was not a girl, but a reality crushing in on itself, along with every other assortment of broken bone and cruel abandonment I have known, and still it is beautiful. I have no faith, but I know this. And There has never been a moment where I was on this earth and didn’t think in some small quadrant of my mind where what little truth there is lies, that it is beautiful.  So, don’t tell me it’s not. Don’t tell there’s nothing here for me. Because For every touch, for every whispered word of another being that my ears can understand, for every moment I think I am loved, I know it is worth it, I know it is beautiful. For every laughing scream on a cliff, for every king of the world, for every painstaking beautiful thing nature is endowed with, I know it is worth it, I know it is beautiful. For every wedding toast, for every smile, for every balmy afternoon spent half asleep, for every warm dusty library, for every beam of light I see that hits the ocean and shatters it into a sparkling broken mirror of green and blue, it is worth it, and It. Is. Beautiful.
I may cry thick sobs into my carpet in a prayer for oblivion to come swiftly, and that whisper in the back of my head still will say it is beautiful. Lila, this world scares me, breaks me, ruins me, strips me, abandons me, and then leaves me for dust, but in every breath I still breathe, and every beat my heart pumps there is beauty.
I don’t think I can explain it to you Lila, it just is. I’ve always felt it. And I know that it will be my time to go when I don’t feel it any longer, then I’ll have to leave. But I’m going to be honest with you Lila, I think they’ll snatch the life from out of me way before that can ever happen. For you see, Lila, beauty, is infinite. I am just a girl collapsing in on herself in a world of unknowns. I am a finite being trying to grasp the tattered inexistent edges of an infinite universe that will always elude me, but oh, Lila, the chase is beautiful too.
I think it will kill me one day, but still it will be beautiful. And I will never know exactly why, But still, when I’m lost and broken, I hear muffled music coming out a broken radio in a screeching car down that hot, and seemingly endless sticky black road we call life, and I remember. And I remember it’s beautiful. And Lila I know that there has to be more to it than this, but this is all I have. Just a small hope hanging from a chain stopping in front of my heart. This tiny bit of peace I get knowing that this journey may have no true start or finish or reason or destination, and I may never understand why I’m on it or what it is at all, but while it lasted, it was a beautiful.
I know it seems silly and small, but Lila I will never be able to fully express the relief it gives me knowing that not knowing might be okay. Knowing that it is possible to just stumble across what I’m meant to do instead of painfully and aimlessly searching, but more than that, it’s knowing that even if I never find it and all the little things I did on this earth will be looked down upon by some higher creature and deemed less than worthy, that I will still be able to look myself in the eye and know that whatever I did, however I lived, no matter what, it was beautiful.

Lila, will you be able to look yourself in the eye?
Could you ever say the same?
Lila?
Could you?