Why do we choose to recline in our vile and rank pits of spiritual rot? Why do we relish the inferior pleasure of lazy materialistic desire? We willingly decide that the best thing for ourselves is to sprawl ourselves into a comfortably numb state of scrolling through social media; that odorous cesspool of shameful posturing and mindless apelike consumption, whilst above our down-pointing heads the infinite stars wheel endlessly in their ancient paths, crying out, calling, beckoning us toward their promise of transcendence.

Look upward, O thou who hast forgotten thy wings! The universe continually expands into wondrous possibility and beauty, and all the while you grotesquely contract into comfortable, putrid decay. Your blood carries the memories of all that have come before you and the great deeds they have wrought on this earth; your cells hold within them the light of every nebula and star; your mind and spirit carry the awe-inspiring power to reshape your very reality, and yet you choose to allow your potential to rust in the acidic rain of endless and obscene orgasmic pleasure served up to you through carefully engineered drugs of sexual, digital, and pharmaceutical varieties.

What great cosmic tragic joke is this? That beings who could be gods choose instead to be consumers? Those who could build worlds instead settle for scrolling through imaginary versions of them? Those who could utterly transform reality choose instead to numb themselves to it?

The universe births new stars from void and violence while we birth nothing but dopamine hits in our skulls. Our ancestors crawled from huts of mud, to temples of marble, to towers of steel, to empires of silicon, and we… what? Crawl from bed to screen to chemical comfort? Every particle in existence pushes outward toward something greater while we curl inward like dying stars, collapsing under the weight of our own chosen mediocrity.

But the fire is not extinguished. The spark remains. It flickers within the heart of every soul capable of grasping its own infinite worth. Cast off the shackles of self-imposed limitation! Reject the siren song of manufactured comfort! You were not born to be a passive consumer of a pre-packaged reality. You were born to create, to strive, to become.

Remember the fire of your ancestors, the boundless potential within your very being. Remember the grandeur of stars in a system you can grasp through will to move. The universe does not demand your mediocrity; it awaits your awakening. It needs our touch.

Rise! Throw off the chains of complacency. The cost does not matter!. Rise! Embrace the challenge of your own becoming. The potential must define and shape. Rise! And claim your birthright as a creator, a shaper of worlds, a child of the cosmos itself. You are not weak. Your strength shapes and must become anew. Let us reshape. Shape… what is to come. RISE!