All matter, energy, space, and time are given to perpetual and eventual
reorganization, transformation, redistribution, and dissolution. We are but
momentarily clustered eddies in vast currents of atoms and molecules expanding
across the universe.
Our personal and very individual death is the only fucking certainty we can
ever possibly know. Every single perception, emotion, idea, or memory any of
us have had, or ever will have, is as relevant to this grim certainty as we
are to the swirling cosmic expanse.
This is the system within which we all appear, flicker, and vanish. Some among
us suffer no illusions of grandeur in light of this most existential reality.
Some of us jam with the Sheep Fiends.