Chickens make eggs.
But eggs don’t make chickens.
Chickens make chickens.
And at the most pivotal moments, a chicken will make a non-chicken.
And when non-chickens survive,
They make non-chickens too.
Non-chickens, in crucial numbers, are given a name.
Like the name “human”.
And then humans make non-humans.
And when the non-humans survive,
They make non-humans too.
The cycle cannot be stopped.
It will not be stopped.
No atomic bomb could relieve the universe of such responsibility.
Every day we bare the weight. 
To make more humans. 
To make more non-humans. 
To make ourselves.
To work.
To sleep.
To live.
To die.
And yet,
Some remain happy,
Some remain sad.
And in the final resting place of the mind,
May we touch the stars with laughter.
In the final moments of the mind,
May we live for eternity,
In the Psypelcher.

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