We are so small. So tiny, that we could not even reach the stars. There are many things I no longer care about. So many of them, I can close my eyes and respect the universe without any doubt about its grandiosity. I feel so insecure and empty, everything is empty, in confrontation with the space. Everything runs so fast and far, why? What is the meaning of all your actions? Do you think sometimes? Will it matter in a hundred years or so? Who are you to believe in that? Who are you to believe? Who are you? Who?
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