Luyện nghe bài hát Shoulders

Like many, I to look at the stars.
I love the fact that ours is just one many.
What I love about astronomy is our constellations tell a story.
Our constellations born from mythology.
Mythology was our first attempt to understand the in which we live
We put a God in and those Gods would give us our reasons.
Why is the sky
Who blue?
Gods.
How men have nipples?
the will of the Gods.
Why does this taste so good?
a God in it!
And for a while, there was not a thing that the gods could not explain.
We believed that their anger us lightning;
Their gave us rain
We whispered our to them, believing that their charity would sustain us.
Gods... were just stories.
But stories a large part of how we learn
They lessons into our memories
They become a part of how we remember; we can almost everything,
Right down to that first unbearable bee
When we learned that this blue marble we call the world has rules.
Rule one: don't fuck with the bees!
An lesson brought to you by your memories.
I remember that I grew up mythology.
I remember the story of the Atlas, who was also the god of astronomy
The global positioning system sending sailors safely home by telling them which constellation to keep starboard.
He taught us the stars, and in all this, while he held up ours
Our pale dot.
But Atlas is caught two different tellings of his story.
In the first, he leads a rebellion against and is then sentenced to hold the heavens on his shoulders for eternity.
In the second story, he is chosen to be the guardian of the pillars that up the earth and sky.
I prefer the story.
It means that the world is not a but rather, a responsibility.
But how can just one be charged such a burden?
How can one be responsible for all this?
When I think of Atlas, I think of a drop of rain
I think how unfair it would be to hold a single drop solely responsible for the entire world clean again.
I how my grandmother tried to explain our world to me-
She told me a
She said the ground and the sky, they each other
But they have arms
So rain; that's how they hold one another.
I began to see how the earth and sky need other.
But I wondered us.
In this perfect design, where do we
Which piece of the are we?
Like constellations, I began to see a connection between dots and my thoughts
And drew from one to the next.
I began to see us in the context of a bigger picture, the blur slowly into focus
We are Atlas.
I saw this pale blue dot, this one world, is all we get.
will be no reset button, no new operating system, no downloadable upgrade
We will not be allowed to trade in our old world for a new one with climate control or better efficiency
We get one at this.
Dismiss all reports of chances; we get one.
And yet we draw advances on our as if we one day won't be held accountable-
We will.
We are.
The human race runs toward a finish line emblazoned with the worlds far' and wonders,
Will we ever it?
we already?
We are with the seemingly impossible talk.
And okay to be afraid.
Our dilemma before us like a mountain carved into a blockade, the sheer magnitude of our problem would be enough to dissuade anyone.
How do we save the
We lay in our beds curled question marks, wondering
can we do?
Where do we
Is hope a glue crazy enough to hold us together while falling apart?
The seems immense.
But we can do this.
We must take the martial arts to loving our planet-
as self-defense
Forget the cost
There will be no thing as worth saving as this!
Nothing important; nothing as precious;
is home.
All of our start and end here.
We are sheltered within an that has given us every single breath we will ever take
Every monument we ever made has come from the flesh of our planet.
Water blood, skin like soil, bones like granite
It is not a myth, there is no debate, are in
Fact is, never been any question.
We are crisis.
We dismiss the truth not because we can't accept it, but because having to ourselves to change is a scary prospect for anybody.
The most alarming part of the statement 'we are crisis'
Isn't the 'crisis',
the word 'we'.
Because those two letters take the responsibility away from one and rest it on the shoulders of everybody.
We are now.
But our will come from finding a way to share in shouldering the responsibility of turning the impossible into somehow
Somehow, we do this.
We can do this.
We can dismiss apathy; we can uncertainty
We can be the new chapter in our
We will not see immediately
We must act in faith as the hour hand the minute hand and they land on the eleventh hour
We must like the seed that change is possible to see.
Never seize the flower, it grows it must become more than what it was
It changes, because in growth, all of its can be unlocked.
Change is rain, it starts with a single drop.
one, like our pale blue dot.
Caught in an endless waltz gravity, we circle the sun, wondering who, if anyone left the light on.
We are constellations upon the earth, we are connected to one another, we are bound.
We must behave as the arms connect the ground to the sky.
We must try to be more the rain.
Our may differ, our goal is the same:
How do we save our pale dot?
We act as the rain, realizing each individual drop is as equal and important as any.
We act as one.
Now, we are many.