At some point this week, Stephen Hawking made me feel small. As a six foot tall gay man, that rarely happens. There are few things that make me feel small; the ocean, the sky. But things we see everyday never make me feel small. I begin to feel like a cog, as opposed to an individual. But Stephen Hawking began to describe the outer rims of space, with its wormholes and black holes, and suddenly I felt as though I was this momentary blip in the history of human existence. That years from now, the Sun itself would grow to a size in which it would incinerate the Earth. That years from now, we will have the technology to travel across both space and time. And yet at this very moment, I am merely a person with words and thoughts on a screen. Things continue to grow and die, and there you are.
We only know so much. The rest? We are simply children with jobs and money; eyes still looking up to the sky for the answer.
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