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I can't even being to rationalize the thought of death.
Again and again I try to make sense of my existence but never to avail, for the reason for which I still exist today is unknown.
How am I to know if I am truly real or just some smaller piece in the puzzle of life that is waiting to be placed into it's correct spot where it will reside forever until unavoidable death comes to reclaim the soul of my breathless corpse
I am always unable to make any reasonable conclusion about the universe as the whole because of it's immense complexity.
How am I, someone so small, so little, so unimportantly tiny in the grand scheme of the cosmos even begin to rationalise the thought of an infinitely expanding universe.
A universe in which everyday, I drift further and further away from the neighbor galaxies, further and further away from the one chance humanity has ever had to explore the observable universe.
But due to the lack of time and the lack of resource, I am left to cope with the thought of being an insignificant afterthought of a reckless mad god who threw me upon the earth just to tease and torture with the vision but never the reality of exploring more than the ball of rock and metal I reside upon.