we try so hard to stay relevant, but the truth is, everything and everyone is replaceable (sometimes?).
often I feel like the universe has a dark sense of humor. tricking us into believing that we matter; while making a better younger version of ourselves to replace this fragile storyline in the very next moment.
but when you really think about it we are nothing but stardust of an old age molded by gravity, decaying again but never gone. and slowly remolding into something new.
you are special, (here at this very moment, even if you don't exist in the very next one.) when the universe stops for a second to breathe in all the chaos to breathe out a new life. (and maybe that is enough)