ive already written an essay about this and maybe one day ill post it here but when the world is so dark its staggering to see how beautiful certain aspects of humanity are. I'm sitting in the dark trying to sleep but im thinking about how humanity is fighting to see the stars, how we're going back to the moon to learn about our histories and the universe beyond. we sent recordings of our languages into the solar system and name bright spots on the moon after the people we love and hearing our robots on distant planets sing songs as their batteries die or their time away from us begins a new year. I'm sitting in class but there are outlines of hands on cave walls and etched runes and expired student ids left on cliffsides to say someone existed, someone was real, someone made that journey. im reading this poem but thousands of years ago a people came together around a fire to hear it performed, a recording of their own ancestry and religion. we bicker over characters and their relationships and motives, and the story's first audience did the same.
billions of people working in tandem to explore, to create, to live in memory and connect with their history as humans. writing and painting and traveling and learning.
the first sign of civilization isnt war, its a healed bone. that healed bone makes us what we are, even when it seems that all we are for is death and horror.
we are here to find that cure, bring them food when they cant stand, share that story and outline our hands and scribble our names in the sand, despite the pain, because that's what makes us human. that simple act of screaming our stories into the wind and hoping someone's listening.
