I went to an old house that had no doors.
I didnt know I wasnt supposed to come in.
It had many rooms, each one dark.
Wet passages, damp halls. All dark.
Fear receded after a while. Then, dark joy.
I went there. Then I went there again.
It made me weary. It also gave me comfort.
I went to an old house that had no doors.
There was a mirror on the wall in a corner.
The room was dark. The mirror showed not my face.
I didnt know I wasn't supposed to come in.

When you are a fatalist, as every man will become at some point, truth will become the only  recourse.
Even scientific truth. In fact, especially that.