Poor humans, lost in a sea of eternity, weak and small, ignorant of the very reason of their existence. Forced to deal with their ignorance by creating religion so they can feel they are part of something and that somehow it all makes sense.
Primitive fools who think they own or control anything but themselves, writhing and squirming like worms on the surface of a tiny blue ball lost in the immensity of time and space.
Ephemeral creatures whose existence is but a by-product of the cosmos, why do you think you matter? Why do you think that what you do can make any kind of difference other than to your own egos?
Living and dying is your eternal doom, pondering the meaning of your insignificant existence is your prerogative but can you ever find the answers? Can you ever contemplate the truths of all that is? Do you wish to see past the surface of the mirror? Do you think you could take it if somehow you could see?
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