posted on Jan, 22 2012 @ 08:23 PM
It really starts making my head hurt to see things like this. Not in a "I am going to stop thinking about this" kind of way, but in that, "Holy
s**t, I may and likely will never understand anything about existence" kind of way. I will never know what it's like in the Messier Galaxy, or even
the rest of our own galaxy. The sheer vastness of the Universe is humbling beyond the extreme. And it really makes me want to cry, tears of sadness,
that I am so small, and that I, though my mind compels me to ask, "Why are we here? Why does life exist?" I will probably never know. But maybe with
time the human race will figure it out. Or maybe we'll continue annihilating ourselves, the latter is a likelier possibility. Or maybe it's simply
not possible to know.
But even if there's no God, even if there's no afterlife, there is a small comfort in the fact that our bodies are made of stardust, and to the
stars we will return someday. In billions of years, when the Sun dies and the Earth dissipates, all of the material of Earth will be recycled through
the Universe again and we'll become a comet, or an asteroid, or another star, or a black hole, or something else that we've never even heard of.
Matter is neither created nor destroyed. Our physical forms will be recycled, and even if our souls and minds are simply complex physical processes,
then at least a bit of our physicality lives on.
God, this makes me want to cry, so so much. The Bible says something about God paying attention even to the tiniest sparrow. If there is a God, we
must look the size of electrons to Her. Smaller, even. Quarks, smaller than quarks. It's really hard to believe that there is a God who loves you
when you realize that you're nothing compared to Her. You are literally a speck of dust, a fraction of a piece of sand floating in an endless ocean.