A/N: Erm, random plot-bunny that I decided to post. Nothing special.
Disclaimer: The Star Wars galaxy belongs to George Lucas. I am not George Lucas. Therefore, it is safe to assume that Star Wars does not belong to me, and I am not profiting from this.
The galaxy is frozen.
That is not to say that it never changes; indeed, ice is constantly melting, being chipped at, and freezing again. Sometimes snow piles over it. Sometimes it is mostly melted to water. But it is always cold. That is the galaxy.
The Jedi do not understand this. They speak of the Living Force as though it were a deity, something all knowing. All knowing and good.
There's no such thing as good. There is only hard, unfeeling, cold nature, and how we choose to interpret it. The Jedi preach goodness, and that the strong are meant to protect the weak. The Sith teach anger, and hate, and that the strong are meant to dominate the weak. They are both frozen in their ways. They are both wrong.
The galaxy is frozen. It is frozen in its ways, as well, but because it is everything known- and many things unknown- it is right. Always.
The galaxy does not care. It is unsympathetic if you're tired, or frustrated, or disliked, or just not lucky. Everything goes up and down. There is no balance in the end- and yet, the universe depends upon balance. It also depends upon the paradoxes which define it.
Everything is frozen.