Outer space is primarily nothing and the 7 billion billion billion atoms in our bodies are electric clouds of emptiness. Whatever solidity these vehicle bodies contain is an illusion put on by forces nearly too small to measure.
Space is empty. Our minds, made of empty atoms, are nothing yet they are something. A grey ephemeral something. We are something aware of its own impermanence. Something built to grow, copy itself, and die. Billiard balls striking billiard balls striking billiard balls from start to finish, forever.
Our solar system glides through this emptiness on a path to somewhere not on purpose. It’s simply moving. Like a car ride with a parent you don’t know even exists who won’t answer any of your questions. They only drive, and you, we, sit. We sit and stare and some of us try to figure things out and others can’t be bothered because who needs to when there are other things to do?
Nothing is wrong. Nothing is right. There are things that make me sad and things that make me happy and then there are billions of things and people every day whom I think nothing about. It’s like a big multiplayer game we all get to play, and we all have 01 LIVES REMAINING. What are we going to do? That person is going to collect coins. That person is going to fight monsters. That person is going to kill as many other players as they can before someone decides that their play time is finished. That person is going to fix other people’s trucks.
I will log in every day and I will make my way through the levels and I will remind the other players that it’s just a game. I will write about my gameplay and I will write about the things in my head. They cannot remain nothing if they have been turned into words. Space is empty but we are not.