We are but carbon based lifeforms. Our
emotions are chemical reactions, and our dreams are
just a violent outburst of kinetic energy.
Whom are we kidding? Our lives are many-handed
wanting to bond with everything else, some
failing, some succeeding, some ending in
pyre, some in purgatory.
Our lives are innocent little sparks that drown out
after a millisecond.
Your indecisions are writing new chapters in a book
that you will never get to read. But know this.
A billion years from now, a museum of human
emotions will remain, like the dry canals of Mars.
You can rejoice that day.
Today, we’re the specks in a cogwheel, insignificantly
significant, but too similar to be detected.
Too proud to bow down, too cocky to
apologize. But the skins will shed, the
superiority complex will go away. That day
we will celebrate the lives made of textbooks
that became fossils for another