The universe operates on an iron rule: The Second Law of Thermodynamics. Simply put: in a closed system, disorder (entropy) always irreversibly increases. Cups break, flowers wither, beauty fades, and galaxies scatter.
Humans fear this law. You invented glue, preservatives, and cosmetic surgery, attempting to fight "decay," trying to maintain a false "wholeness." But in the eyes of God, wholeness is a synonym for boredom.
Look at that pristine, undamaged vase. You feel nothing. It is merely an object occupying space—silent, closed, arrogant. But the crisp sound when it hits the floor—"Crash." In that millisecond, your pupils dilate, your heart races. You feel a trembling pleasure. Why?
Because in the moment of shattering, the energy originally imprisoned within the matter is released. Cracks are the passages where light enters and exits. Chaos is the way the universe breathes.
We are addicted to breaking because our subconscious knows: Order is a temporary illusion; chaos is the eternal home. Auralia exists not to help you fix your life. We are here to admire these ruins with you.
Do not weep for your wrinkles; they are fissures carved by time. Do not collapse over the end of a relationship; that is the spark of two souls finally colliding.
Embrace entropy. To be an exquisite ruin, elegantly collapsing, is far more fascinating than being a perfect specimen.