Millennia

The big ship follows and from its thousand eyes we have understood everything that belongs to us. There is nothing else left to us in this planet! Our minds have predicted its history, the length of its lifespan, the duration of its weakened souls, and where it should crash. What a shame it was, we say, what a shame that we know them so well, have their deaths all figured out but they cannot do a damn thing about it and neither can we. Beautiful in a strange way, gorgeous within their total ignorance, and let us not get deep into the problems of their many brains which go to and from every direction into roads of nowhere.

How shall we destroy them from up here and withhold them the awfulness of their pointless end? Days, of the planet, went by, minutes, of the planet, went by, lives, of the trivial variety, went by and at first, when it had all began, we all dreamed about the fun we would have and the lights we will travel through. But they are all stopped easily by death, worry, and feelings. Some of them were our friends but they died and their children became our friends and they died and their children became our friends, but after a while, they died way too fast, even before we got a chance to be friends with their children. They were children one day, married one day, old one day, and why should we care then, if they are going to go away and tempt us with mortality?

Life is such a mysterious occurrence but it is not more mysterious than others that we have experienced and seen exemplified. Still, it fills us up with great pride to have interacted with it as much as we did, to have experienced birth and love and hatred and madness in our own flesh. Aloof, we enjoy its mucus, its dirt, its wonderful sense of ongoing desperation. We have breathed their air and drank their water but what else should we do? They are interesting diversions. Years, of the planet, go by, and everything they ever stood for, all the things they were so proud of, their lives, their love, their lust, all went away the moment they faded in the pressing of a button, a solemn moment of mastodonic genocide. An extermination is of course very bad, but what about else, wonders, pieces of shame, defense mechanisms, reincarnations? None of them are close to us, none us appreciate them enough to save them from themselves, but dying is as interesting as life, they just do not know it. They could be forever like we do. They could understand and produce like we know.

But why do they live? Why will not they choose to be exterminated, incinerated, forgotten and dust off into a big, thick blackness? In our ship we can smile all the way through their final ordeal, the last sigh of a planet short lost. That, we learned from them.