Sometimes you’re approaching the sea from atop a slope and you see ships hauling containers and you think about how much of this universe is invisible to you, known through the implication of its existence. Container ships, broken parcels in the mail, tell you people exist whom you’ve never met.
They tell you even what is observable of the universe is unimaginably vast, and we meaningless inside it, because of the way light travels and distorts as it courses blindingly towards us. but all we can truly say with any certainty is that we know the precise shapes and frequencies that light takes when it falls on our lenses, and what we extrapolate to be true from the data extracted from those patterns holding assumptions about the immutable nature of time and space even across distances where distortions of both things become non-negligible. For all we know we are floating in a hologram and we aren’t so insignificant after all. Why accept either assumption? Why not resign oneself to never knowing?
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