Little Blue Planet by *marklar on deviantART
We live by strategies. By tutorials. How-to's and pseudo-profound quotes. The life we live is really ours?
"Change your life in 59 seconds", "15 mandatory no-calorie food", "16 reasons not to have children," "Sex: what they want." This is the culture of pink magazines. This is what most women read. This is what they want to become.
Asimov was already talking about robots for some reason; sometimes we just seem machines waiting for instruction. No need to create intelligent computers that think for themselves. Because even the human species failed at this point.
But I was talking about strategies. Whenever I hear these words I remember of manipulation and war. Or is it adaptation? Update? Darwin? 孙武 (Sun Tzu)? Knowing what surrounds us? Asking ourselves? Evolve?
Since we were still half-egg-half-sperm (or even earlier) that we are fragments of fragments of fragments. I am the tail of a comet. A small portion of the nebula. I have lived in the primeval soup and conquered the sky in the form of lightning.
One day I will be just part trash, part nutritive-something. I'll contribute, perhaps, for the History of mankind, but the most important narrative will have yet to be told: the fears, dreams, phobias, victories, failures, the discovery.
I'll not become nothing, I, for so long, thought I'd be. I'll be everything. Each atom will travel through infinite times and spaces. I will return to be a falling star and fulfill thousands of wishes. I'll rest in the craters of the moon and, once again, will be seduced by the charms of the little blue planet.
