A Microcosm

Who knows how many little deaths occur everyday? How many people are struggling and laughing and dying right now... I can't help but wonder how other people are feeling as I fumble to put my own life into words. And everytime I think how complex my experience of the world is, it occurs to me that I am but a microcosm among billions of others, trillions throughout history. And yet of course, I must be selfish and think of myself. And can you really blame me? Everyone is the star of their own life. And who better can you understand than yourself?

All of this is so painful. And here I thought I was a strong person. And yet now I can barely feel a thing left for me here. I just feel so ready for something new. I wish I could die and just be reborn. I wonder if we even are reborn in the future. Can you even imagine not existing? I've heard stories about the near-afterlife, which reassures me. Even if I never remember who I was, how wonderful it is to be alive. When I think of things that way, they seem a bit better.

I like to think about how many loves and wonderful things I would feel. How great it is just to stand in sunlight and feel warmth. To look at the sky and the sun and the clouds and listen to beautiful music that makes your heart soar. Perhaps I've just lost touch with all of that...