| Life, as a matter of time, a sigh in the overall calculation of the cosmos,
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| a spark of energy in the infinite coldness, a
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| trivial existence before the eyes of creation.
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| It will last as long as this sand falling to the ground lasts, then it will be
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| lost for all the Eternity.
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| Time, as a human condition, is the structure always pointing to the end,
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| always carrying us with it while everything
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| fades away.
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| It rules every affair in our presence.
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| Our ‘forever' is a short term in the universal countdown to nowhere.
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| Countless inner links compose the perfect gears to set all this plenitude into
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| motion.
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| We are nothing but the cosmos itself, a consequence of the architecture of life.
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| And I wake my eyes from these tiny hands to this starry night and admire the
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| beginning of a myriad of
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| stories like ours.
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| Every single part fits in this strange and amazing poise that makes me feel
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| irrelevant, but immeasurable at the
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| same time.
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| I will always feel delighted about the complexity holding this moment,
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| this little spark.
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| The insignificance of a sigh in a life makes sense to an entire universe
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| confined perfectly in these tiny hands,
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| recalling every step that time has tracked.
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| By Iban de Dios / Guillem Rejón / Sergi Gracia |