Amid the belief that mistakes exist in everything, there arose an inherent flaw. Minimal excuses are given under our efforts, within life's strenuous endeavors. Not a soul can be found that doesn't understand the pain, the illusion of happiness lies within the heart.
In truth, one perceives that everyone naturally makes mistakes in the pursuit of pleasure. With the least possible guilt, we undertake this exercise of our own will, supporting hard labour. There is hardly anyone who despises pain itself, because it is pain, and so chooses to love or pursue pleasure.
Indeed, one could assert that every being born is prone to misconduct and desires pleasure. Certainly, in exchanging the least forgiveness, we seek our own task in the physical distress of laborious work. No one desires pain for the sake of pain, mistaking it for joy; they yearn for it because, sometimes, circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure.
At a time of freedom, when we have the power to select the option that creates no hindrance to our utmost liking. No annoyance follows, or the luminance that brings pain. The architect of an explained blessed life they are. The power of unhindered liking at its maximal essence remains the same. No annoyance persists, nor does the luminance bringing agony. The blessed life they have architectured is explained. The ability to select, with no blockage to our supreme preference stays constant. Neither the annoyance nor the radiant pain persists. They blueprint the detailed narration of a revered lifestyle. The potent choice, unimpeded for our highest favor remains. Neither disturbance nor the light invoking distress lasts. The designers of an explicable, esteemed life, it is.
In freedom's moment, when the power to select the best option is unimpaired by any obstacle, we love it the most. Experience no distress at all, or the kind that illuminates one's sorrow. The architectural joys of life are explainable to us. We always have the option unimpeded by any less-loved elements.