ethereal wings

In all I seek rest

Ilong for the eternal repose inomnibus

Descartes closed his eyes, and a horrible scene appeared in front of him.It would be nice if this was a nightmare, but unfortunately, it's all true, and it's all true in the early hours of this morning.

He seemed to be standing in the hall of the main building of the French Pavilion in the early morning, facing a dark coffin.He couldn't bear to look at the blood-red cross and the mottled names of the dead.After the routine prayers, Da Vinci and Galileo opened the coffin, revealing a skinny body.The pale complexion was no different from the color of the clothes on his body, and the bones could be vaguely seen under the transparent skin.The body was put on the stretcher, and the two lifted it up as if it had no weight at all.Descartes glanced at it before it entered his bedroom, its pale feet lying limply behind the stretcher, shaking lifelessly with the movement of the stretcher.

Now he was facing his desk.Da Vinci and Galileo had already left, all he had to do was wait for Pascal to wake up.He hesitated again and again, but took advantage of the morning light to look back at Pascal lying on the bed.He still vaguely remembers the scene of their last meeting in 1647, 12 years, to be able to torture a person like this.

He couldn't help thinking that once Pascal woke up, the world he perceived must be the same as he perceived that day in 1750, flying directly from death a century ago to death a century later.

*****************************************************

1662 8 Month 18 Day.

Another day and I, Blaise Pascal, will be exactly two months after my 39th birthday.But I didn't think of this... A long time ago, I felt that my time was approaching.Not only was my physical torture already driving me insane, but my spirit was also on the verge of breaking down after a few years of extreme authoritarianism and loneliness.I want to be free, but I have bound myself so that I can't struggle.

My servant brings me a mirror.The man in the mirror... His face is full of ravines, his black eyes are dim, and there are only endless pain and doubts; his long black hair is loose and loose.He is me, but I don't want to believe it.I am only 39 years old, but the long-term torture has made me completely out of shape, like a dying old man.unimaginable appearance...

Happiness is always alike, each unhappy person is unhappy in his own way.

I'm just waiting to die... I actually forced myself to be ready a long time ago.When I stubbornly refused the medicine prescribed by the doctor, when I tortured myself again and again in the way of a Catholic ascetic, I wanted to exchange physical pain for spiritual relief, but this religious fanaticism only made me more painful .I have no way out.

I recalled that on March 31th I presided over the test run of the Parisian stagecoach.At that time I couldn't stop thinking about the carriage accident when I was [-] years old.I survived such a serious car accident, so I took it as a miracle and embarked on the path of spiritual practice.During the test drive ceremony that day, the two carriages seemed to be facing each other, and I heard a call, calling me, a lonely and helpless person...

Go back to August 1662, 8.After a little calm, the abdominal cramps broke out suddenly.I lay on the sickbed and watched people send me off one by one... The outer me was powerless, while the inner me collapsed in extreme pain.Struggling, confusion, screaming...

Ah, and that roll of parchment, that roll of parchment written after my wagon accident, which I have been sewn deep into the lining of my clothes. "Father of righteousness... may I never leave you again."

God, please don't abandon me!

But all the pain has swallowed me up.

Inomnibus requiem quaesivi

In all I seek rest