When I reduce the infinite to five stories, that's all you're seeing. Just points strung together in the night, to tell a story. Just constellations.
If you know that you were made in the same crucible as Christ, as the stars themselves, then your perspective becomes different. Rather than thinking about what makes you different, you think about what makes you the same. We, they, it all come from the same place. Everyone you love, everyone you hate, every object inanimate, they were all born of the same mother, at the exact same time. We're all cosmic cousins.
We are all just spacedust on the edge of an explosion. Yes, we self-organize around our own gravity and chemistry, but fundamentally we're all just dust on the wind. As the band Kansas sang:
I close my eyes
Only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
We're literally, physically, just spacedust surfing the gravity waves. The Big Bang never ended. It's still banging. We cling onto each other by bare-assed force of gravity and think this is the world. And that this world is forever. Kansas was wrong when they sang:
Now don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
The earth and sky will also slip away. The oceans will boil in a billion years. Everything will melt by 5 billion. The Sun will engulf us all by 10 billion years. It'll all be blown into spacedust by 15. Not just our sensations of the world, the world itself will slip away. All we are is dust in the wind. All beings, animate and inanimate (whatever that means).
They were also wrong about money. Money can buy minutes, it can buy hours, that's literally what it buys. We get paid by the hour, by the day, by the year, by time taken away from our familes. Life times. The rich carry lifetimes around in their pockets, like so many nickels and dimes. Lives collapsed like so much gold, just another form of spacedust. It all blows away. Like dust in the wind.
The original is a sad song, but fuck it. It's sad only if you're thinking about the petty life you lose. With a change in perspective you get life eternal. Or at least life universal. You give up one life and get a billion. As Kanye said about being a manslut, "waves don't die baby".
Waves don't die
Let me crash here for the moment, yeah
I don't need to own it
Waves don't die, baby
Let me crash here for a moment
Baby, I don't, I don't need to own
To be honest I don't like either of these songs that much. If you want to catch the vibe of the universe, listening to Burna sing. Go to Peru. Or listen to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan doing anything.
Last chapter we talked about the vast emptiness of space. But in that emptiness is dust. And the points we draw between that dust creates meaning. Water is two hydrogen and one oxygen atom. Hydrogen is just one electron spinning around one proton. Each electron itself is moving. All is in constant vibration. Like the stars across the sky. It's all constellations, all the way up and all the way down. Everything is described as constellations of space dust. Points in space. All in motion, constantly. Like I said, we're all still on the edge of an ongoing explosion.
As A$AP Rocky said,
Her pistol go…
(bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)
You could say, we're dust in the wind, but you could just as well say we're spacedust. And that's a much cooler thing. That's crushed carbon diamonds. That's asteroids flecked with gold. You can also feel the great emptiness of space as cold and terrifying, or just mathematically irrelevant. Every definition is a vector, which I understand through vector graphics programs like Adobe Illustrator.
Everything you draw on Illustrator is just connect the dots. Geometric points on a Cartesian plane. A line isn't ink on a page, it's just y=mx+c. Vector art is constellations not an oil painting. In video games this polygon shit is getting highly sophisticated and indistinguishable from 'photo' reality. At its core, this is what all reality is. A constellation of spacedust. Blowing in the cosmic wind. Reality is not really about things as they are (infinite), it's about the temporary relation between things. Just points in space. The archaeology of an explosion. Einstein called it Special Relativity. I call it having lots of relatives.