It's simple.

It often seems to me like the simpler I want something to be, the more complicated it is.

If I want a simple black dress, I find purple, green and yellow dresses adorned in lace, ribbons, and bows.
If I just want to drive to Tim Horton's and get a coffee I get into an accident wherein my car gets totaled.
If I seek a friend, I find a lover.
If I find a lover, I needed a friend.

Does simplicity exist?

Perhaps the notion of simplicity is really a perfectly orchestrated trick of the senses.

Perhaps it is just the idea of simplicity that wets the appetite long enough to keep us interested so that when we think we've found it, we revel in it, to us it is sublime...
                                                                                                       ...until some bird shits all over it.