I’m feeling lonely so I’m buying Carl Sagan books.
I need someone to tell me that it is okay
to be small.
Not only that it is okay but that it is
inevitable.
Not a question but a fact,
not a problem that has any sort of solution.
Not a problem but a
tiny
blue
dot:
the universe with its bruised edges,
its corners bent and folded.
Something so big that it cannot be contained
without getting hurt
by what is trying to contain it.
Something so big that when you stand up against it,
you can’t help but to feel small.
I’m buying Carl Sagan books to get lost
inside of vast and open spaces,
to stop feeling like the microcosm
is the macrocosm−
to forget about the difference at all.
So maybe there is no loneliness because it is all just nothingness.
Maybe being small is impossible because smallness is meaningless.
Maybe I should be buying Nietzsche instead.