We go through life acting so seriously as if we are going to live forever; as if our names will be sung in parades and hymns of heroic chants and romantic parodies of love.  We stumble upon major disappointments, yet, we manage to rise, sometimes to be more outraged or exhilarated than we were before.  The fact is that we are wasted pixels of dust, cycled and recycled in mortality.  Whether we hunger, get promoted, wither on the thresh-hold of cruelty, we shall remain finite and goated animals of insanity.