I’ve been here for longer than I can remember, stuck in a room made of glass. Generations come, generations go and I still stay the same. There’s nothing else here, just me. I’m a monument, something to look at, contemplate, but never touch. I’m a barely visible object.
4 billion years have passed. Now, I have a new favorite sitting position. Humans aren’t recognizable anymore. I can’t comprehend their form.
I feel like a zoo animal. 127 billion years go by, I’ve been staring at the ceiling for 1244534562317490487 seconds. My existence is entirely meaningless and monotonous. All other lifeforms have ceased to exist, but I’m still here, alone. Nothing has changed.