I wonder if anything really matters at all.

Sitting on the grass of my front lawn, I watch the stars slowly move across the sky. Up there, does anything really matter? Above the clouds, do these constant petty problems really amount to anything at all?

You look down, I wonder, and you wouldn’t see the houses or the streets or the people holding hands but just waves of green and blue. Those pictures of the United States from space, you can’t see the bar room brawls or the lonely people walking the streets or the people sitting on their front lawns with a strange want of something more from life. You can only see the farms, the trees, the water.

The only things that really matter.

A part of me wants to go up there, where nothing has a meaning. Where I could let go of everything and just float slowly into outer space.

I guess nothing really matters anyway.

I lay my head down against the grass and let myself drift slowly into sleep.