[ WP ] You just discovered England 's biggest secret : every time they say long live the queen it extends the queens life .


 It didn ’ t even matter. Even when they told him that every time he said it it prolonged her life it made no difference because she made no difference as far as he was concerned. “ God save the queen ” he would say jokingly after a few beers. As far as he was concerned it was prolonging her agony and that was fine by him. 
 He knew what he was doing. Few did. I suppose that is the curse of life in general. Either you are blessed by ignorance or you are envious of it. But for him it was a bit of both. He knew that every time he said those words he was prolonging the inevitable. He knew that even if he stopped others would continue and so his stopping was pointless. Maybe a bit of him felt that his participation was his exercise off control. Like his decision not to take his own life. Like the wind. 
 But he was one of the few who knew what he was doing and so he was plagued with the responsibility of knowledge. While he spent most of his days looking down from his balcony at the tiny cars and people on the street below and feeling a deep sense of sonder, a sense of connection with the meaningfulness of life that each of those lights and specs represented. Sometimes he wished he was one of them. Sometimes he wished he was anyone but himself because being him meant knowing what he knew. 
 Even if he wanted her to die it wouldn ’ t matter. Even if he told every one of the lights and specs it wouldn ’ t matter. She would live forever. And he would never know. 
 

