In the way that you have to acknowledge the thing that brings daylight and nourishes life around you is in actual fact a blazing inferno that you have no hope of getting near to and also blinds you if you look at it directly for too long. Can cause damage that can sometimes prove fatal.
In the way that you have to acknowledge that the thing that is always changing its faces and is out in the day just as much as it is at night is crucial to your survival. It keeps the sea in check and prevents mass flooding and therefore ultimate death.
In the way that a small part of you is offended that generations after you will never know what the ninth planet was. And also screwed up the way that you remember the other eight. All rhymes make no sense now. It is totally still a planet.
In the way that you are partially fascinated but whether the planet next to ours has water on it. If it does that means if inter galactic travel became a more accessible thing then you could actually go and live there.
The way that every piece of media that questions whether aliens exist makes you think for a minute. Sometimes you rubbish it and move on. Other times you figure that this planet and these species’ can’t be the only thing out there. There could be civilisations younger than ours. Or older. Much older.
It’s in the little things that you don’t notice anymore, so ingrained they are in your everyday life. That is how the universe wants to be noticed. And it will keep throwing signs until you do.
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