I have nothing to say about anything important,
Being wholly preoccupied with my own little dramas.
So I'll do what I do whenever it all feels overwhelming,
I'll look up at the stars.
I am insignificant.
All is so much nothing.
This is what they teach me,
And it comforts me.
The realisation of my own inconsequence
Gives me perspective.
Maybe there are other beings out there, somewhere,
Doing better than we are at living,
Making more out of existence.
Or maybe they too are looking out
And dreaming of us,
Wondering what it all means.