Not kidding, either.
I can't say much about this,
but that it's definitely one of my favorite of these.
You might well wonder about the X over the eye,
which is a recurring motif in this series,
and so do I.
If I'm forced to elucidate,
I guess I have to say that it must be the mark of mortality on perfection, you know?
It's a sort of stain of indignation earned by a failed resistance,
a grudging loss of innocence,
a futile rejection of the world as it is,
a capitulation which leaves you, for the rest of your life, always slightly brimming with resentment,
resentful of being alive under such needlessly unsatisfactory conditions.
It's the mark we all adopt when we realize we've been cheated simply by being born.
The quote beneath is from, "The Song of Bernadette," which is one of my favorite movies ever about a girl who has a vision of the Holy Mother one day while gathering fire wood outside of her town of Lourdes (France) and then, under some vague, supernal instruction, digs up a spring the waters of which have miraculous, curative properties. Wacky, right? Of course a throng of the devout and infirm descend upon the location and Bernadette becomes an object of praise, skepticism and inquisition by the church, etc. Then at the end of the picture she becomes a nun, becomes incurably ill, and is finally asked why she doesn't use the healing water for herself, to which she replies, "The spring is not for me." Then she dies.