The world keeps telling you that you matter. That your story is important. Tonight, look up. The stars don't know your name. They never will. They don't have the equipment to care. You're small. Smaller than that. And it's a relief. You weren't a project. You were a guest. You're made of earth, water, fire, air, space. You'll be those again. The universe isn't ending when you do. You're not in it. You're it.