In the eyes of the world, the universe, we're just tiny little dust.
Well, you knew it, the dust is very complicated, and it gets harder lot in life. And one day, someone made the dust.
All this is a story of dust. And maybe someday mine, across the land, fly in a polluted atmosphere or they will be quite happy to no longer breathe. But meanwhile, the great dust, which is actually so tiny, they are, well life is complicated.
Why say that? It is a kind of balance I think, therefore I have avoided the development, but I do not éparne conclusion worthy of the crazy dust than I am, who would do better to stop thinking about 5 minutes, for his own well. And yours.
Signed: dust. (You knew that it could not sign right?)
