Bodies falling through space.
The same fall, repeated infinitely.
Different falls, each singular.

Articulated limbs bend and break,
echoing civilisations that rise and collapse,
species that emerge and vanish,
ideologies that promise salvation then crumble.

Each configuration creates momentary constellations.
Brief alignments suggesting connection and separation,
pattern and chaos,
meaning and its absence.

The loop is perfect.
The loop is broken.
History repeats and never repeats.

Scale determines whether this is tragedy or comedy.
From close range: universes of suffering, consequence, particular loss.
From distance: hypnotic pattern, almost peaceful.
Bodies falling like rain, like leaves,
like recursive iterations testing variations.

The space surrounding the falling forms
is emptiness and potential simultaneously.
Void and possibility.

Systems collapse and create openings.
Systems collapse and nothing emerges.
Both futures exist in superposition.

Impermanence playing eternally.
Futility that somehow matters.
Everything simultaneously significant and meaningless,
depending on which timescale you inhabit,
which perspective you occupy,
whether you're falling or watching others fall.

We participate in cycles larger than ourselves.
We are unique moments that will never recur.
We fall together and alone.

We matter infinitely and not at all.