I am here.

In the grand cosmos of things we can appreciate our insignificance. We’re born. We live, some of us, if we’re lucky. And we die. Our existence, in the grand scale of things is by definition a miracle.

And so, we yearn. We crave to make the boldest statement of our lives. All our lives amount to it. Our family, our jobs, our inventions, writings, paintings, selfies, religion, everything we do. In all this, we have a burning desire to make a profound statement:

I am here.

In our private moments we look deep into our souls and we scream with fury, I am here. I am fucking here. We live with it, buried deep in our psyche because we understand from the beginning of consciousness, we aren’t here forever. But the cosmos whispers back…

If you’re here, prove it.

And so, we dare to answer. We explorers. Pioneers. Dreamers. Us humans. We go against our existence. We venture out. We dare to stand up proudly to its infinite presence. We defy insignificance with passion. We answer the cosmos’ beckoning with our presence that roars back to the cosmos…

I am here.

The world is big. The cosmos, much bigger. Small consciousness on a floating rock we are; a space ship going nowhere. Yet we dare. We dare to stand up to its silence. Go out. As will I. Do something. Say something. Scream into the beautiful void that is the cosmos with acts of intelligent consciousness that proves…

You are here.

It knows that its days of our insignificance is numbered. It knows, despite our short existence on its cosmic calendar, we’re capable. It knows that collectively, we will defy it. It knows without doubt. And it beckons it. But most importantly, it knows that we’ve answered its call to prove…

I am here. You are here. We are here.