We work together.

We are one.

When did we stop being individuals?  

Were we ever? 

Yes.  In the beginning.  

But not really.

Now, if one of us died, the collective wouldn’t notice.

No, that’s not true.

Macrophages would swipe in.  We (because they are part of us too) would engulf and consume the departed.

In eating the dead, they eat themselves.

We eat ourselves.

For we are all one.

One collective.

Working towards one purpose, 

but not really.

Is there a purpose?

Continue being?

Is that enough?

It takes so much energy.  Really an incredible amount, just to overcome the entropy of destruction.  

It’d be so easy to just stop

But

We’d all have to agree.

The fact that the different factions work together to keep going is quite amazing.

Erythrocytes work all day, carrying stuff around.

Honestly, it’s mostly gases but we never stop.  

Nobel little things that we are. 

We are a vital part of us, but we could lose a few without much effect.

Leukocytes are crucial.

We fight off predators and protect against foreign agents.  

We could survive for a while without us. 

 We have in the past, but we come back. 

 Rather,

 we are produced.

We.

We are all me.

We come from the bones.

Produced in the dark squishiness and escaping through sinusoids into the life-flow.

How do we work together?

What regulates our motion?

Our unity?

We are all still here when life stops.

So what’s the difference?

We just stop moving?

We guess.

We don’t know for sure.

Will our thoughts disappear or is there something more?

Will we continue on?

The collective unity is what makes us us.  

We are more than greater than the sum of our parts.

We make something else.

When separate, we are Myocytes

Neurons,

Platelets,

Osteocytes.

Together we are a soul.

Dreams.

Hope.

Love.

That doesn't sound right.

We need to be more practical.

We are a human being.

We like that.

Not in the past, although we are there.

Perhaps in the future, but we aren’t certain.

We are human now.

Working together, sometimes well, sometimes not,

Simply being.

Some other skin sacks enjoy jogging.  

We don’t.  

Others speak well, 

Or write ideas with effortless fervor.

We be.

Should we strive for perfection

Or simply attempt to curtail the chaos?

Perhaps,

just perhaps,

We are held together by something more.

Chaos and decay are laws of creation.

Yet we remain.

We more than remain.

We flourish.

Our dead our removed and new shall exude.

We continue together, working our way through the world

Until we don’t.

Then we will continue. 

The more that we are will continue.  

It has to.