elevation

I can't say. Life if so many things, all at once. Step back and look. Way back, away from your tiny portion. Imagine. Not pity, that's just another way to not see. Let your tiny life go, step into another. See all of it at once, bustling, struggling. All the life, all of it. Struggling for a toehold, competing. Germs, plants, all of it. The plants are curious, fighting as we do. Against each other, against us, bribing us, all presumably without consciousness. This is indeed strange, but of course in no way indicates a creator, it only indicates a strangeness we do not yet understand. That is all. There is no chariot pulling the sun across the sky. Grow up and realize wanting a thing to be true is a poor excuse for believing. The way you like to pretend humanity is something it is not, something elevated.