We are nothing but air.

Air that has been dried up and reused over and over again.

We believe we are more, because it is sad to think that we are made up of nothing but molecules,

Molecules that float around and around and around.

Sometimes I wish that the air would stop, and we could all be at rest,

While other times I cannot get enough,

I am just scratching at the surface gulping the air,

Wasting what little there is,

Wasting the air so I can get a few more seconds of freedom,

So I can get that millisecond more needed to expand my life.

As if my life is worth more than yours,

But in some way it has to be,

In some way I need to be here, for some reason,

And if there really is no specific reason, why am I even here at all.