20.8.11

gone to the cosmos

Only when I'm gone. The significant thought of your absolute insignificance. What we all fear. Our smallness, the longevity of life. When you hold your hands up to the sky and the cosmos swallows them up. Chewing, and grinding your knobby little fingers. Life is big, but not your life. Life, the whole. The big picture. Fisheye sized dome like massive big giant life. Not yours.

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