Floating

Into the Dawn

I do not look kindly at the dawn. It is not as if the sun rise comes with any promise of better days. It's just a mask for the infinite void just outside that cerulean skyline. It's just a cover for the existential terror that lives within each of us screaming that somehow, some fucking way we are important in this cosmic hackjob of creation, and that our dust speck existence over a single fart in the timeline means some great unknown significance has been fulfilled. But just look past the morning sky into that endless night, and you will find that even morning is an illusion. Not that it does not exists, for we have quantitive proof that the sun rises and sets, but fuck me if that isn't a matter of perspective. And hell if these planet dwelling apes have made much headway in that department. All we need to know is that just beyond the clouds is a completely different existence and one that we are not quite a part of. So significance is brought back down to perspective, and as I have already said, I do not look kindly at the dawn.