The Earth Spins Around

How can I know that all of this won't end in vain? What is it that I've been craving, a meaningful life? What does that even mean?

Each of us is such a small, weightless flick of dust who feels special, believing we can change the world somehow. But most of us will be forgotten, our lifetimes wasted, our voices unheard. Surely there were many like us before, people who carried and fought for our ideals throughout all the centuries. Yet the world doesn't seem to change. Its evolvement is nothing but heartless invention. We are still of the same mentality, the same hunger, the same urges. We still fight for the same thing.

Priding civilization because we don't know any better. Putting names on everything as if we got it all figured out. Building skyscrapers and see the world through a screen.

Despite the 'peak of humanity', we are still wild inside, aren't we?

And what if it doesn't matter? What if nothing of this will matter? What if all the dream and war and love and life and fear and fight and idea and victory and obsession and possession and hatred and ache and chaos and grief and death won't matter at the end of the day? 

When the day ends, will we matter?