The World Is Watching Our Every Move

The world is watching our every move. Or it is disinterested in our misery and plight. Which is it? Well-it-all depends on where you're standing and also what your viewpoint is, whether or not it's right. And also what you decreed to obtain by determination or fate alone. Sure, we build our future on the ashes and cinders of a thousand dead stars without a flight plan, we enter a galaxy of black holes. Looking for that one Goldilocks planet that can support a life form long enough that it can thrive. Everywhere you look, a camera is turned-on-facing-you or it is exacerbated by your mediocrity and satellites looking the opposite way, it's hard, a hard journey. whatever-route-is-plotted, like a comet orbiting dark matter, obscurity is my favoured spot. The world can do without me and me it. It has done me no favours, is all I'm saying I haven't a pot to piss in, but I don't care. I will live and die without any fanfare. And if one tear is split, let it be tearful laughing. And on that day, I die, not a camera or an eye will blink to see my passing. I will join the remnants of a time long forgotten but in some small way my words will linger on light-years-from-now the residue of thought will be once again spoken.