Status Updates From Buzz Aldrin, hvor ble det a...

The microscopic cells that formed your face in the photograph your parents have hanging in their living room are gone, exchanged for others. You’re no longer who you were. The atoms may swap their places but nobody can control the dance of the quarks. And the same applies to the people you love.

How desperate is it possible to be?
That's something that's never been researched.
There are no statistics.
There are no graphs to compare oneself with.
No diagrams with uplifting figures.

I wish I could say I’d found it years later, than I’d tripped over it one day on a walk through the trees and dense undergrowth, but I never did, it was gone forever in the chaos of the afternoon, lost in battle, like so many of the things we don’t need, but that we mourn when they disappear, because everything that’s ever been, will be mourned, default-mode, more or less.

Some people wouldn’t want the whole world even if they could have it. Some people just want to be a part of a whole. Useful, if inconsequential. Not everybody needs the whole world.