Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?
Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.
But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.
To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.
Steve only knew the feeling of falling. He was falling into The End, and as he fell, he saw the Endermen which had fallen through the hole the dragon had made. As he fell, he caught glimpses of the diamond structures atop the pillars of obsidian. He saw the dragon drawing power from them, and was fearful once more. As quickly as he caught the glimpses of these images, Steve fell deeper.
Steve only knew the feeling of falling. He was falling into The Nether, and as he fell, he heard the laughter of a madman. It was his own laughter, and as Steve fell, he saw the stronghold in which the black chest was hidden. As Steve fell, he saw the portal he had so carefully constructed extinguish itself, and was melancholy and maniacal once more. As quickly as he caught glimpses of these images, Steve fell deeper.
Steve only knew the feeling of falling. He was falling into the village, and as he fell, he saw the shimmering pools of maroon which lay all over town. He caught minor glimpses of the bloodied note he held in his hand. He saw his own grief, and was grief-stricken once more. As quickly as he caught glimpses of these images, Steve fell deeper.
Steve only knew the feeling of falling. He was falling in front of his house, except this time, he came to an abrupt halt when he made contact with the ground. Steve stood up, his bones aching from the fall, and saw his house once again set ablaze. All of the things he had worked for, gone. All of the things he had created vanished. All of his efforts, wasted. And as he caught his last glimpse of this image, Steve saw darkness all around him.