Hermosa Música

Not the first time, won’t be the last,

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

and whose out there to save us from ourselves,

a burden streaming through a black hole in the midst of space,

collecting dust as we move towards the final point,

our solitary bleep of life,

almost forever gone,

this isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.

Time to take up irons,

this land is mine.

Carpe diem,

gather ye rose buds while ye may,

old time is still a flying,

and this same flower that smiles today,

tomorrow will be dying.

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