Shreyas

A horizon of worlds we can only look at, but never reach. It's wild to think our cosmic neighbors might be peering right back through a telescope at this exact moment—and yet, neither of us will ever find out. It’s frustrating. If life took root here so naturally, how is the rest of the cosmos this quiet? Why haven't we heard a single whisper?

If the universe is practically built for life, where is everybody? That deep cosmic silence hits differently depending on the night—some days it feels peaceful, like having the whole house to ourselves; other nights it feels terrifyingly lonely.

Every atom in our bones was forged inside an exploding star. But sometimes I look at the world and feel like those ancient stars would be heartbroken—seeing consciousness finally emerge, only for us to fight over petty borders and hoard what could easily be shared.