have you ever
sat
to think about your life
and just
how
inconsequential whatever you're doing is

just try
for
a second

fretting over finances
or
straightening your house
or
maybe trying to write
something
anything
worth reading

it's a peculiar kind of feeling
when
one particular Thursday night
you come to fully embrace
the idea
of being cosmically irrelevant
a small kind of feeling
akin to
maybe
standing under a large skyscraper
though
perhaps
the scale of that
doesn't quite do it justice

so you stop
and
think
and whatever you happened to be doing
seems silly
but
when you
think
a bit longer
you come to realize
you are cosmically irrelevant

so you fall asleep
on the toilet
reading Bukowski
one particular Thursday