I can feel a depression setting in. Why have I let this go on for so long? I have heard promises made and broken for far too long. I have lived this for far too long, the most lucid dream, the one they call life. What they do not tell you growing up is that all dreams come to the same conclusion: They all end! Extinguished like a flame stoked. I have yet to understand the enigma that is human, this frail species. A rock fallen from the side of a cliff, carried away by the torrent of the universe, never to be whole again. This wayward planet. A home without a home. Lost in the depths of the darkest corners like a shadow with no light and no body. Our kind needs more. Most do not know what they need more of. The perception of right and wrong, good or bad, want and need, are all lost to us all. We are blinded by our own selves. There is an idea of what we should be, an idea of what we could be, that will slip from what grasp we have on it. This planet, it will live, with or without us. It does not care. The planet will be as ruthless to us as we are to it. People rape their mother Earth, and will continue to do so until they have consumed everything that she can give. Pests, parasites, people…. These things are no different than paper, plants, and planets. They will all live, they will all be used, they will all die, and they will all be forgotten. People have forgotten more than they will ever know. They do not care. We are blinded by our own selves. Life extends beyond the self. We are here to be a part of life. People have wasted and laid waste to any and all forms of life. I do not want to be a waste. I do not want to waste away. The more I know, the more I do, the more it becomes clear to me that nothing I do will ever matter. It already doesn’t matter. No one cares. We are all blinded by our own selves. The more I try, the more I realize that it does not matter to anyone else what I shall do, or not do, because they will not notice. I will never be anything more than a footnote, written on a grain of sand, lost from its beach, flaked from a rock that fell from the side of a cliff, attached to the skin, the brick and mortar of our life, our mother Earth, the forgotten child of the universe.