When you have nothing but time, century after century, to experience life, you begin to realize a few things: One, you'll always be alone in the end. Second, everyone you ever loved or get close to will eventually die while you remain behind. Third, everything of beauty you create will wither away in the passage of time. What place is there for you in the world when nothing you do matters when in a hundred years or so, it'll all be either gone or forgotten?
