Are you intent on guiding me to the light, then? Of showing me that life is beautiful?

...I did not come to my answer easily. Long did I search for meaning in my, and everyone else's, shared miserable existence. I never found it.

[And somewhere deep down, in a part of himself he is too stubborn to explore, is a fading spark still clinging to hope. That spark wants to be proven wrong.]

You are right about one thing, however...

Immortality is a curse. As is a star with impermanent death.

Death is respite for the soul. When a soul cannot move on, and its despair continues to grow, life is little more than a prison.

[Now he smiles, some of the jester returning to his features.]

And a decent reaper would grant souls that everlasting rest, wouldn't he? Bring your oblivion. Set us free.