Sometimes I look up and am overwhelmed by the sheer scale and mindless indifference of time and space. I look down again and all the goals and strivings of this world seem like meaningless, temporal distractions, without purpose or point. In time it will all be gone. We’re all busy looking down, rearranging deckchairs as the band plays on and we sail inevitably on to oblivion. We try and cry and fight and fall and then we’re gone. Done.
If we won’t be remembered or matter in a million years then it’s as though we were never really here at all. Are we then really anything now? We trick ourselves into meaning, into our”selves”, with a localized gaze but anything dropped into eternity becomes nothing, even time. Infinity negates everything, even space. Endlessness does not allow for the location of a specific time or place, the idea of finite self is meaningless in the face of the infinite. Only one can be true; time or eternity, space or infinity, me or … ? So if I mean nothing, I am nothing, then these words do not exist. This thought is not. So then, what is?
