The Illusion of Infinity

The longer this persists,

The longer my mind festers.

The longer I am locked away from the world,

The smaller the world seems.

Now, I wonder: why?

Why do I even want this to end?

What happens if this dreadful phase should pass,

If the pandemic should shatter now, like the smashing of the glass?

What then? We still live out our lives on one single rock

Floating around in space, and talk the same old talk?

We will live out our lives on this oh-so-tiny sphere,

And let it be known that we shall never leave from here.

Perhaps some day so far from now

There will be those so fortunate

To be able to venture far and escape our present torment.

Our planet is a speck of dust within the greater cosmos.

We may as well all live inside but a small room, at most.

The longer I remain like this the smaller the world seems.

I cannot help but wonder: if this curse should suddenly be lifted,

And I travel to Bangkok or Kathmandu,

Would the world, once again, in its vast size, be to renew?

Or now that I have seen how small our fragile home such is

Would it be impossible to escape that perception,

Now that I can see that our rock is but a grain of sand on a mighty shore?

Here, there is nothing new.

Once one has explored the whole world, they are unlikely

To venture beyond the simple atmosphere of our planet.

Our present existence is like an old video game:

Once all the levels have been completed, it can be played no more…

I will die on this tiny rock where which I started.

This small rock of a planet that can be circled in as little as 50 hours...

At this, I now look up, and open my door,


And I see a little feline sitting there upon the floor.

Well, you are more fortunate, in this case, than am I,

I think, as I am drawn to hear his squeaky cry.

At least you do not yet know the size of the world that you explore,

And cannot explore its half in your lifetime; therefore…

I opened the door to the house, and the cat sprints out.

This world, to him, is likely endless. At least, in this short moment,

I have given him what I doubt I will ever obtain: the illusion of infinity.

Why do I even care? To a peasant tied to a farm eight hundred years ago,

I have a grand expanse of land before me to explore…

But now I feel: my house, the entire world, what’s the difference anymore?