He sat and thought about the immense size of the universe. It was unfathomable and it made all else meaningless. Everything was simply created, created by us to make ourselves feel as if we mattered. That phrase “as if” echoed in his head.

All those norms, love, responsibility, virtue, knowledge; they all were petty thoughts and worries that filled days and darkened doorways. They were illusions. He understood this. He knew it.

He was a priest, taking vows of celibacy for nothing more that faith. He knew that his worries and his beliefs were for nothing. He knew the whole thing was a charade but for some reason he could not let them go. He clung to them as if they were all that mattered, and in a sense, he was right.

He grabbed at them as if they meant something, greedily devouring the lies like candy. He became obsessed with more; plenty was a lie. He hoarded his thoughts and his things and every once in a while he looked up at the sky filled with stars that were most certainly dead and gone.