to grasp ones true place in the universe is a daunting task considering there's so much we just don't understand. one feels like the centre of it, at least an integral part. one feels tremendously important. and yet surely nothing could be further from the truth. we're each on this earth for such a short time.
that must be why i enjoy tripping around alone. everywhere i go i see lovers holding hands, mothers caring for their sons and daughters, families laughing together while i remain unnoticed. not adored by a lover, attended to by a mother or part of any family, over and over again i grasp what must be my true place.
strangely, the more i viscerally grasp my total insignificance the more i appreciate the inherent significance of connecting, with the shop-keeper, a waiter, the obese guy in the next campsite, even his dog, an old lady walking by. the more i grasp what must be the truth, the entirety of life and every interaction in it feels all the more precious. perhaps in some obscure sense each of us is in fact actually significant. as microcosms of the macrocosm, perhaps it's some sort of bizarre, unexplainable, contradictory cosmic joke played on human-kind.
meanwhile, the big guy at the next camp-site snores and mumbles in his sleep all night, loudly. in the morning i watch him stumble out of his tent shirtless, an image i'd rather not start my day with. his long-suffering big old dog looks over at me as if to say: 'can you help me(?) i'm dyin over here.' there's nothing i can do, of course, but i smile over, say good morning to both as i drink a coffee.
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