We read too many articles about the cosmos.
We read too many articles about the cosmos. Then we find ourselves interchangeable, for all our separate tics and idiosyncrasies. We get baffled by our own responsibility to this insignificance, our fractured fractaling. We are not snowflakes. Or if we are snowflakes, it is only our cumulative effect that makes a difference. How do we begin to cover the land? We may be unique but we are still only white spots tugged down by gravity to melt against the ground in a suspended instant of uncapturable, unendurable magic.