Every Man is a Unique Cosmos

Everything happens. Always. To no one.

I'm burning. It's not a malevolent fire, she is not there to hurt me. Wild perhaps, untamed even, yet still mine. Every so often, she flares up. It happens; I cannot always control her. She burns, hurts, but I always remember. It it was not for her, I would not exist. She helps me see where I'm going, and who's coming my way. I need her, but she needs me too. Without me, she would be extinguished. We cannot be without one another, and that is our curse.

She's like the Sun. Close enough to keep me alive, but too far to interfere. She observes from the distance. Sometimes, she rages with desire, and her flame shows in my eyes; But she knows. It is me who decides. That's the reason she acts that way. She does not allow me to see everything. From time to time, she lights up a new fragment of my cosmos, thus feeding my curiosity. We envy each other, for to us both it seems that the other position is more advantageous. It is not just my fire that behaves this way, everyone else's does too.

Within ourselves exist so many places, distant and unexplored; so many of those that are well-known to us, yet still hidden, pushed into the darkest corners of our beings. We are infinite, just like the cosmos, and we will never comprehend everything about ourselves. But then, how can one even hope to truly know another, when he is unable to fully understand and explain himself?

We watch others, eager for knowledge, intrigued by their actions. Our core craves for the things that happen in other cosmoses, sees meaning only in things that others experience. They appear shiny and beautiful, mysterious even, when seen from our perspective - from afar. They make our own look ordinary, boring. We forget about them, as we watch those of others, and our own experiences fade. We all look through those same eyes, creating the illusion that nothing happens, all the while knowing full well that what happens is - everything.

We have a feeling that anything can happen to someone distant, unknown. It all even seems unreal. Surely, it can never happen to us. It's as if it is a different world, distant and imaginary. For if we haven't seen something with our own eyes, experienced it with our own senses, we believe it doesn't even exist. It's the same with other people. It's as if they don't exist, and yet we hear about the events on the other side of the planet. We see.

Everything happens. Always. To no one.

The End

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