We enjoy thinking of ourselves as the center of a cosmic play. Even the slightest changes in our lives seems the difference between night and day, yet to others its hardly even a blip on the screen. And this extends all the silly little events that afflict us, the fights that seem so real, the moments of utter amazement. How often do we share these with a friend, gushing with conviction, only to be met with relative indifference? How many of us really do believe we are just "average" and that most of what we do probably never will make a difference? Is it even possible? For we do not live in a world of impartial wisdom, no, we are victims of our own meager scope of reality.
So is there any hope to be found in this? Any relevant lesson to be learned? If you believe so then many hardships likely awaits you. To pull a message from this tragic reality is quite the feat. In a real sense, we do not count for much, no matter how much we would like to. Even worse though, this isolation of consciousness ensures that we will never even gain that level of pertinence to those we really do care for and cherish. Can anything be salvaged from this? That is difficult to answer. Yet there is another class of individuals, the people that do not think any lesson can be grained from this travesty. These are the ones who understand the depth of this tragedy.
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