woofwag
Bad dog
- Sep 17, 2025
- 253
I have a cosmic being within my head who stirs a pot of wooden stars and moons. I've known them for a long time. Their form is incomprehensible to me. They said, "don't try." Each stir unveils a new layer of the universe. A galaxy here, black hole there, white dwarfs and red giants and dying stars. It's nearly impossible to find ours, because everything about us is so small in the face of the vastness of space. But we did eventually.
Even at our maximum magnification, Earth looked no larger than a penny. Just a tiny green and blue penny with a star the size of a nickel. They explained how small we are. In the infinitely large vacuum of the universe, we are smaller than the smallest atom, smaller even than a millionth of an atom. We could have lasted for hundreds of billions of years, and it would mean nothing to infinity. But they said that sometimes, they like to check on us. To them, we're like a singular brine shrimp: a creature no bigger than a grain of rice floating in a motionless plastic chamber of water. They wouldn't mourn us. Just as you wouldn't mourn, or really even notice, one tiny brine shrimp dying. But they're fun to watch, aren't they?
It was hard for them to describe how tiny we are even in a metaphorical sense. One might grow attached even to a container of brine shrimp, but the universe isn't sentimental. The universe couldn't mourn any of its contents even if it collapsed in on itself. So, where does that leave us? A planet doomed to eventually be consumed by our own sun, having lasted for barely any time at all. And the answer is, wherever we want.
There's nothing wasted by our existence. You are not sapping any resource, depleting anyone else of anything by existing. We just exist. Everyone has their own microscopic little ecosystem too. Little tide pools, our blood carriers all the cells and antibodies and bacteria we cannot see. It spills into its own little corners of our bodies. Tiny mites live in our eyebrows, bacteria churns in our stomach, microscopic organisms crawl over every inch of our skin. We are alive with everything in and on us. You could be completely shut out from society your whole life, and you'd still possess an existence for these living beings, and maybe even a meaning for them, too. I think it's enough of a meaning just to be alive.
And just as tiny as we are, tinier than that are our problems. Life on Earth will keep on living, and the worsening of the economy or dire political situations can't stop that. Of course, most of us don't live our lives existentially. The incomprehensibly large and unknowable universe has little effect on our day-to-day lives. But these problems will always come and go, whether your good days outweigh your terrible days. There's always little moments. Always. Even SI is a moment like that. It's an annoyance for many of us here, but it's still a body trying to live, a part who wants to exist despite our misery. I think that's worth something.
There shouldn't be barriers to suicide, if that is someone's wish. But existential dread shouldn't be a barrier to life. It sure isn't a barrier to death. If the pain is too much, it's ok to let go. But you can still find your way in all the tiny things around you. Even the tunnels an art burrows into the ground have an infinitely small mathematical chance of ever being able to be perfectly replicated.
Anyway. When we had this talk, I told the entity that I wasn't sure if any of this was supposed to help me. And they laughed (with some annoyance), saying, "It wasn't meant to be advice. We're just having a conversation." So, consider this a conversation. It doesn't need to change your outlook on anything. But it's a fun topic to think about.
Even at our maximum magnification, Earth looked no larger than a penny. Just a tiny green and blue penny with a star the size of a nickel. They explained how small we are. In the infinitely large vacuum of the universe, we are smaller than the smallest atom, smaller even than a millionth of an atom. We could have lasted for hundreds of billions of years, and it would mean nothing to infinity. But they said that sometimes, they like to check on us. To them, we're like a singular brine shrimp: a creature no bigger than a grain of rice floating in a motionless plastic chamber of water. They wouldn't mourn us. Just as you wouldn't mourn, or really even notice, one tiny brine shrimp dying. But they're fun to watch, aren't they?
It was hard for them to describe how tiny we are even in a metaphorical sense. One might grow attached even to a container of brine shrimp, but the universe isn't sentimental. The universe couldn't mourn any of its contents even if it collapsed in on itself. So, where does that leave us? A planet doomed to eventually be consumed by our own sun, having lasted for barely any time at all. And the answer is, wherever we want.
There's nothing wasted by our existence. You are not sapping any resource, depleting anyone else of anything by existing. We just exist. Everyone has their own microscopic little ecosystem too. Little tide pools, our blood carriers all the cells and antibodies and bacteria we cannot see. It spills into its own little corners of our bodies. Tiny mites live in our eyebrows, bacteria churns in our stomach, microscopic organisms crawl over every inch of our skin. We are alive with everything in and on us. You could be completely shut out from society your whole life, and you'd still possess an existence for these living beings, and maybe even a meaning for them, too. I think it's enough of a meaning just to be alive.
And just as tiny as we are, tinier than that are our problems. Life on Earth will keep on living, and the worsening of the economy or dire political situations can't stop that. Of course, most of us don't live our lives existentially. The incomprehensibly large and unknowable universe has little effect on our day-to-day lives. But these problems will always come and go, whether your good days outweigh your terrible days. There's always little moments. Always. Even SI is a moment like that. It's an annoyance for many of us here, but it's still a body trying to live, a part who wants to exist despite our misery. I think that's worth something.
There shouldn't be barriers to suicide, if that is someone's wish. But existential dread shouldn't be a barrier to life. It sure isn't a barrier to death. If the pain is too much, it's ok to let go. But you can still find your way in all the tiny things around you. Even the tunnels an art burrows into the ground have an infinitely small mathematical chance of ever being able to be perfectly replicated.
Anyway. When we had this talk, I told the entity that I wasn't sure if any of this was supposed to help me. And they laughed (with some annoyance), saying, "It wasn't meant to be advice. We're just having a conversation." So, consider this a conversation. It doesn't need to change your outlook on anything. But it's a fun topic to think about.
