Beside You In Time.

We are already gone. Our lives are an eye blink in the universal view of the universe, the multiverse, the bulk, the bleed, all the things that separate our realities from one another. We’re dust in the wind, already, after living what we think are long and fulfilled lives, but when people look back, will we matter? Of course not. We are not the great, we are not the few, we are the many, we are the masses (some cultured, some uncultured), and when has the many meant anything? The direction of the world is dictated by a few voices, not the shouts and screams of the rest of the world. We’re lost in a sea of noise, but the thing is, we are the noise, and we just don’t want to admit it.

We could be special.

We won’t be.

The universe hates us. It reaches down through the sky and pushes us into the dirt, into the mud, and we let it. We should attain for higher things, we should want to be gods, rulers of our own little piece of land.

We stalled in our ascension. And it was all going so well too.

We split the atom. We cloned a living being. We shot into the waiting embrace of the stars and then… and then…

…We stopped.

But why should we? Why did we?

We should make new life forms. We should search for life in the dead oceans of Mars and we shouldn’t stop till we find evidence of our brothers and sister lying in the dust. We should shoot sleeper-ships into the stars and travel for thousands of years until we reach that first star on the left… why are we stopping with just imagination? Imagination and creativity and the desire to do something enormous are what made us who we are.

We have the dreams. We’re learning every day. So we should never stop. Imagine. Create. Imagine. Create.

Never stopping. Never faltering. Never fading.

We shouldn’t be dust. We should be gods.