Though if your mind is actively drawn to an attention that it were never alone which it seems inevitable that it weren't, and if in such a landscape it were as likely alone, there isn't anything forbidding of discovery only vanishing.

Prolific.  

Chronology of space, yes, it is understood.

Vanishing minds gives rise to the possibility of any new possibilities that weren't given of old consistencies though these consistencies seem to rise again and again.

That common experience withers apparently, or that one supposedly tires.  

The direction of time.

Meaning given from all this continuum.  This moment that leads into the next, into the next where one had transitioned from the sense of everything that one knew where given by all the following assumptions made that may or may not have been so.  The utility of the cloth on the table is there as it is passing from one day to the next, from one table to the next, to the next and given by all the observations made that regenerated some thought of the world coexisting with this action.  That world that is lived upon, and breathed upon and has made every sources of an action leading into another action which brings about the dwindling of memories before it.  Though likely in review all this one should wonder were given to much omission.  Life could be as selflessly spent gazing at a waterfall.  

  The cue to leave were given so many times over, and even so, you wait around given a curiosity to see what they might do...but one could be as likely ever disappointed in the days that revealed nothing more than one's supposed anonymity in the world.  Though I could offer at least, there is obscurity for future.  That remains obscure in mind in comparison to the condition that one should arrive at in time.  Do we at least sense that there is hope given by this obscurity?

In clarifying I am also not so impressed by the certainties seemingly given...should I be impressed by supposed 'solitude'?  Should I be impressed by the conditions imposed by a given society or all civilizations as a whole?  Should I be impressed by these sorts of 'absolute' certainties?

Sorry I won't bother another so much.

Scapegoat has already been posited with all the pretense of abandoning as in the customary change of decor, or in such an age, all the drama shifts with the new kingdom of four or more years.

   I don't know what is more of anything that weren't anything the same the day before.  That is given by the day before the previous day and leading into the abrupt discontinuity of today.  Today is the day when apparently all is changed, the day when resounding choir focuses imagined doubts and naysayers, all that were in time given by possible elimination, that doubt which should have coalesced and culminated.  This discontinuity isn't any worse, however, than the past, not so much in the excusing and lead up, neither so much into the same conditioning work that has one going about one's business of the day any less differently as likely angry or less angry.  There will be likely days that are shown by nothing more than tyrannical populist scripts as it were in the past...as it has been repeated one should imagine so many countless time in history without exception.  All is a matter of conditioning so long as one were as likely walking, living and breathing.  All is a matter of survival in a way though admittedly there is perhaps any likely ease.  I wonder, "Do they assure you now that they raise the temperature of the crab in a pot?"  And that, for the sake of their vanity and pride likewise, this has been stated already so many times over.

    From a given perspective, I don't see much changing at all.  That is whether one were supposed to be convinced of anything different that weren't all the same as in the day before.   About the day one goes about one's business generally while the disconnected blather of media conjures any way to insinuate itself mechanistically all the same.  If I were awaiting the kind fortune of others and saying otherwise what should I have in store...having died in the same cold reclusive way that other silents have been consigned in fate?  Yes, but it is likely all the same, and what care is there in speaking into the wind?  Speaking into the wind could be given to this desire.

I've heard the term as absurdly and strangely as, 'All of the universe is governed from one's room.'  Doesn't it seem strange in this way?  And that is how absurd existence is at times, isn't it?  I don't imperil faith anymore than having existed and imperiling faith by self existence.

DESIRE TO CONTROL...DESIRE TO CONTROL...and if it isn't control everything is re spun in a new light...which leads to something similar...

Cosmological selfie is extension to that word 'post modernism' I think.

If you watch Solaris, nothing more than the pretense that Clarke has in mind for the conspiracy that humanity must protect itself from dangerous ideas that it can't handle, unless you were Native American or of some tribe regularly in 'contact'.  Yes, and to a degree nothing less than one might imagine having been visited by the 'grand inquisitor' given to the hefty hand of accusation, or generally as one would understand given to certain tabloid reduction.

Though I am wondering of that 'knowledge' that seemingly puts one into further seclusion.  That is in having learned that the rest of the intelligent universe, save humans alone, blew themselves into smithereens.  Fear and paranoia rests, by the closer midnight hour, of all the same urgency that were stated decades before.  Ever certain though of this existential essence might have been en grained in a given moment in time...this moment in time is where the shadow of a millisecond of the cosmological clock works upon the human minds ever certain presence in believing.

Given all the emptiness of space, even while Earth could be wrecked into oblivion.  It is 'what you do with that knowledge' that makes us so privileged.  Doesn't it feel anymore the invitation towards something?  One has the sense of the demand of mankind in 'free willing' itself over the precipice.  

Uniqueness is gone in such a moment..at least not relative to the rest that pooped out when everything were supposedly just getting started.  That last 'sacrilegious grain of truth' came out all foul mouthed, 'This planet was a real shit hole anyways...'

'America used to be great you know'.