(no subject)
somewhere out there there’s a statistic as to exactly how many clusters of stars there are, how many groupings and constellations and names and nebulas and cosmoses and et cetera et cetera- but it doesn’t matter. when you spread your fingertips across your vision, just so, reach your arm up as high as you can, cover the sky with your hand, you still can’t grab them all in a handful.
so that’s what’s the most important thing.
because you know that only living things have cells because, well, cells require energy to divide and only sentient beings can create, so the idea that somehow millions or hundreds of thousands or some outlandish number little creators live on the tips of your fingers is something mind-boggling.
you think about the universe and all those clusters and all those numbers people have put and you don’t want to think about it, because you feel whole. you are a person, not a statistic or a number or something like that. yeah, okay, you have the lion king moment where the kings and queens of your past are projected up into the stars and you think of how much light those seemingly tiny bastards produce and you’re just the smallest thing.
but isn’t that beautiful.
because your little small, tiny existence somehow has found someone else’s small, tiny existence and together you create something larger than life. it’s this connection of your stardust with someone else’s.
you’re part of a cluster.
suddenly you are not so tiny anymore. in the heat of the day, starving and wonderful, you think to yourself that tonight, the stars will look down on you and think about how tiny they are.
so that’s what’s the most important thing.
because you know that only living things have cells because, well, cells require energy to divide and only sentient beings can create, so the idea that somehow millions or hundreds of thousands or some outlandish number little creators live on the tips of your fingers is something mind-boggling.
you think about the universe and all those clusters and all those numbers people have put and you don’t want to think about it, because you feel whole. you are a person, not a statistic or a number or something like that. yeah, okay, you have the lion king moment where the kings and queens of your past are projected up into the stars and you think of how much light those seemingly tiny bastards produce and you’re just the smallest thing.
but isn’t that beautiful.
because your little small, tiny existence somehow has found someone else’s small, tiny existence and together you create something larger than life. it’s this connection of your stardust with someone else’s.
you’re part of a cluster.
suddenly you are not so tiny anymore. in the heat of the day, starving and wonderful, you think to yourself that tonight, the stars will look down on you and think about how tiny they are.