You remind me of the dead.
They were once alive, and happy.
Then something changed.
Something always changes.
Life is change.
When change stops, when nothing changes, life itself stops.
And death is there.
Death is always there, when nothing changes anymore.
When you say you don’t want to change, you are saying you want to be dead.
The dead don’t change. They stay that way forever.
Oh, we might tell your story and stretch the truth.
A little. Or a lot.
But that’s not change.
That’s the truth, rotting away, just as you rot.
In the hands of death.