Just a Nudge

March 20, 2008
By Sam Blahnik, Racine, MN

Does anyone cry when a cell dies? Does this infinitesimal blob of life get mourned and grieved over, and are tears shed when a pinprick crushes it before our unknowing eyes? Of course not. What a silly question. Why cry over something that you have no emotional attachment to, something you can’t even see. There are trillions upon trillions of this life form wherever you look. The only thing is, looking does not always lead to a miraculous find. And let’s face it, if one cell did hold any ounce of regard in a person’s life, we’d cry a lifetime of tears and dampen the entirety of the world for every fatality. There are too many. However, if no human is there to mourn their demise, or even acknowledge it, who does? I am quite sure their fellow occupants would, if they contained a soul, a heart, or a brain. Other than that, there is no one. They die alone. No one is there to acknowledge their life, and no one is there to acknowledge their death. They interact occasionally by a slight bump or nudge to the exterior, but no hellos or goodbyes. No polite nods to the friendly stranger, or less formal hugs with an intimate friend. Just that nudge. And that’s it. Forgotten the moment after impact.
How would we evolve as humans if we went through our lives anonymous to all, with nameless corpses lining the street, and decaying eyes pleading with the mouth to disperse with just one final word? We wouldn’t evolve. We would regress. No one is there to care for you, so your mind would try to comfort your soul, and your soul would attempt to console your heart. Pretty soon all that soothing and comforting would become overbearing, and you would clearly see through the dry, cracked hands of inadequateness an oppressing nothingness. That big, gaping hole would be chipped away at each passing year full of anonymity, and with time, the vastness of it would become impossible to ignore. Shifting your gaze into its depths, you’d be faced with the story of your life: Alone, desolate, and unrestrainedly detached. Looking into the hole of eternal solitude and inner isolation transcends all our plausible thoughts and images. This is what all cells go through daily; they just don’t realize it. This is also, conceivably, the reason none of their minute figures have the ability to feel and express emotions.
As for us, aloneness is an uncomfortable emotion for an obvious reason: Adam wasn’t created without an Eve. We were born with that basic need for company, care, and affection. Everyone needs a someone. Without one, our lives would transform into a monotonous bead of past, present, and future. The three words each denote something different, but in this warped reality, all three define a wasted existence of harsh loneliness. Don’t succumb to the idealities of a cell. Don’t persist to dwell in your mind when the world is waiting to meet you. And don’t, under any circumstance, let life become a slight nudge on your extremity.

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