As I ran in this cold early morning with the wind flowing through my hair, the mist and the sweat mixing together in a health hazardous unity (pneumonia). The sun isn’t up yet and I can still see the dark sky filled with stars, I am left dumbfounded with a realization as I was staring at the universe above me. My dreams are so ‘ostentatious’ and ‘grand’, or so I thought but those dreams mean everything to me…
perhaps, I look at things based on my subjective egocentric perspective and that it’s actually not me staring at the universe, but the universe enveloping my consciousness, pulling me closer to it’s majestic grandeur and vast oceanic mystery. It’s more logical to say that the universe is the one staring at me. I am just a tiny and insignificant creature whose dreams aren't as magnificent as I thought they were. I mean, I don’t matter to the universe, who am I to be noticed by it?
I feel like an ant… struggling to be noticed, struggling to exist. or worse, i am an insignificant speck of dust... a dirt...
In the end, the universe really don’t give a fudge.
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