You are dust. And you are unimportant.
Take comfort in this. The world does not rest on your shoulders.
That is what they tell us but we have both switched places with atlas and each other. When you carry it, I relearn how to breathe. And when it is my turn, you try to get your bones to loosen, your body to move.
The gods see us every day. They know us and they know that we do not belong here. So they tell us we are dust and not to worry and that this is all in our heads.
Well where else would the world be? How else do you expect us to carry it on our shoulders?