Are you lucky enough not to be a one-hit wonder?

Were you lucky enough to become a one-hit wonder?

We see people ahead of our time and behind our time all the time.

Some we brush off because of spelling or social blunders.

All I want is a tiny paradise on another planetoid.

Ever since we first contemplated a set of thoughts existing separately from our bodies we have desired more than what’s before us.

We have farmed, planted, hunted, mined, fished and thought up terms like alchemy.

We invented a language to describe mathematical “laws” to which physical behaviour sets belong.

We created a destructive force capable of vaporising thousands of lives in seconds and powering thousands of homes for decades.

For what?

This moment or moments we haven’t observed yet but may have predicted?

For whom?

The compassionate medical doctor or the cold-blooded killer?

I didn’t invent this species to which I belong.

I, this decaying mass of states of energy, merely observe and report the moment from my viewpoint, as myopic or universal it may appear to me and my desire to write.

I don’t write for the cats on the sofa or crickets in the backyard.

I write because I can.

I meditate upon previous thoughts that created my version of the language rules, vocabularies and concepts given to me by my peers, including you and the organisms that occupy my pores.

I don’t know more than I know although I synergise, regroup or intuit energy states within and around me into something new I didn’t have or know before.

A guitarist reinterprets Bach for the 1374th time, throwing in pop tune melodic snippets from a life of sensitivity to audible frequencies.

I, I, I…

At the end of this day, when labels swim in my thoughts like musical chords, seeking harmony and discord at the precise moment when this verbal symphony requires proper placement, I ask myself what kind of lifeforms I want to occupy that imaginary planetoid, assuming I had the choice.

My species?

Don’t be presumptuous.

As wonderful as we are – adaptive, inventive, destructive – we’re energy hogs in many environments.

Putting aside our natural desire to live, overcoming the tendency to rest in order to reproduce and spread out – our biological egos – we are part of the universe, which is neither for nor against us, assuming the conservation of matter and energy holds true.

For whom would we tax the hyper-rich?

If one-hundredth of one-hundredth of a percent of a hyper-rich’s taxes went toward propelling a lifeform to another planet, what would the lifeform be and where should it go?

Would a bacteria culture, with an embedded message from our species, in DNA, perhaps, suffice?

And if it already hitchhiked a ride without intelligent coding by us, surviving the rigours of space, would we happily say we gave the lifeform a ride on a lifeless exploratory machine after we discovered it thrived in its new surroundings?

We can’t escape history, no matter how we choose to rewrite what we did on macro scales in previous moments.

We are part of the universe, now and forever, even when we discover the environment we long called the universe is an observable set of laws in opposition to other regions with different natural laws that local states of energy “obey.”

We’ll keep having babies and killing each other.

It’s in our nature.

And today, I’m okay with that.

And, but without further ado, starting incomplete sentences with conjunctions as frequently as I want to.

Making fun of us along the way.

It’s in my nature.

For instance, is the Committee a figment of your imagination or mine?

Can I read your mind or does predicting the future make it easier to manipulate your thoughts so I know what you’re going to predominantly think next?

The joke’s on us.

The punchline is what will represent our planet somewhere else years from now.

C’est la vie.

War and peace.