So Much More

We are all just hazy clouds of condensed energy. Atoms, billions of years old, passing in, passing out, all of our lives. We're not of the same stuff birth to aged. We cant even know our atoms exact positions or define with precision, the horizon between us and not us. Drifting through space-time for the briefest of moments, we who are so certain of so many things - illusions all.

A trillion, trillion ancient atoms grouped momentarily into 'us'.  We then are miracles - miracles wrapped in ignorance and the incredibly mundane. The stunning beauty, the power of what is possible in a billion years and all we can muster despite all the trouble, is money, power, god, 'success', and Donald Trump.

Our lives, linear, overly simplistic, illusions, amidst a multidimensional, technicolor show of stunning complexity, beauty, and immense time.