When The Curtain Falls.

Airplanes crashing. Fires flashing. Lights in the sky. Lightning crackles. A small bang, then a massive boom. Hundreds dead. Debris fall to the ground like a forgotten child's toy. But does it really matter?

Dark alleys lit by dim lamps. Misty clouds hang like a drape over a window. Think about how many women have been raped here. Screams echo. The fear is almost tangible. But does it really matter?

Splash. Splish. Ribbit. Petite frogs beat out a living on their lily pads. How sad. A burning lake lit by a giant mass on incandescent gas. The frogs won't stand a chance. Who cares?

And there she stands. That poor, bespectacled woman. She's about to hang, but she singing. Guess she's not afraid. What's that she's saying? "...All I ever wanted was a little bit of love to take the pain away. But I love you to death. I guess this is what I get." But it's too late now. That poor woman. There she goes. Snap. And her glasses clatter to the floor. I guess it doesn't matter anymore.

Fireworks in the air. Bang. Ka-boom. Flashes of gold, silver, and red. Spirals of green and blue. Pinwheels of orange and yellow. The happiest time of their life. Watching from the top of a grassy hill, surrounded by flora. Only caring about the present. But they'll grow apart. They'll find someone new. They'll grow old. And eventually, they'll die. And it doesn't really matter.

The woman plays it perfectly. The man struggles to even hold the bow. The woman's strings glisten with harmonic sound, while the man's screech like a banshee. Smirking, the woman shows off. She'll get what she has coming to her. But she doesn't matter. Who cares?

Holding a marble to the sun. A vast comparison. But to be able to view the world through a tiny bead of glass is beautiful. Blends of orange and gold tint the world into a perpetual sunset. Breathtaking. And it doesn't matter.

A little girl is celebrating her ninth birthday with her best of friends. As they laugh, they promise each other they'll be friends forever. But they'll grow apart. They'll find new friends. Chances are they won't ever see each other again. But I suppose it doesn't really matter.

And then there's him. Watching the fireworks from the city. Wondering if there's someone out there, waiting for him. And as he watches, he wonders. About life. About death. Whether or not he'll ever do something noteworthy. Whether he'll be famous. And then he realizes it doesn't matter. It didn't ever matter. And it won't ever matter.

Because we are superficial. We are minuscule compared to the rest of the universe. We are simply ants on a hunk of rock the revolves around a huge ball of incandescent gas. Nothing happens when we die. Nothing good or bad comes of our actions. It doesn't really matter what we do in this life.

Because, ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space. That is all.