What will we have lived, dreamed, and learned? What will we be tomorrow, in a century? Tomorrow, I don’t know. And only the universe, if it has a conscience, will see the continuation of our rides.
Another galactic ecstasy is already being nurtured elsewhere in which will give rise to flashes of consciousness. Our emotions are feeble stars, our demands are weak wills. Our Ignorance is our god.
When you are so small, you can only keep quiet, drink with the spirit of the times, feed yourself with the tiny fire of your thoughts.
What will be our happiness, our food? How would I know that?
As a child, I had the same nightmare/dream over and over. I could see the whole universe rushing into the eye of a needle. I kept a sense of wondrous fear. And our scientists talk about singularity, the horizon to which we do not return, relative space-time, the eternal universe, unpredictable possibilities.
My thirst is huge, drowns me. The void, beyond our air, is populated by unknown people that we will never be able to imagine.
We are fireflies.