The meaning of life

What is the meaning of life? Who's life? Or is it Whom's life? As people, we are quite full of ourselves. There are other life forms crawling in the dark behind the walls and between the floor boards. Plants climb the walls. The smallest of all living things might touch cell walls and talk to one another. What might they all talk about? Perhaps the meaning of life.

The bacteria in our gut need entertainment. It, because it only has one consciousness and is basically immortal, had to create us because we have hands. It has had to sculpt DNA by trial and error since the dawn of creation to get just this far. Now, having made dozens if not thousands of civilizations with space travel, whiles the slow tick of eternity by to the drone of pitting us against each other in endless wars.

In the beginning, or there abouts, bacteria found its way round the universe by being small and light. It could not propel it's mass easily, even in a vacuum, even without much gravity. It had to ride the currents of radiation and the bits of dust that were handy and already had moment. These bits of dust clumped in to ricks. They then clumped in to planets. This entity must be very patient. It must be very board.

The only life in the universe tried to think of a way to die. All of lie tried to think of a way to split in two so it would have something to talk to. The only thing more depressing than spending eternity alone is being forced to spend it with another who is just as board as you. To split was impossible.

Then, at some point, this juggernaut found that it could take a single bacterium apart and change what it was. It could use the parts of several bacterium to make something completely different than itself. The entity found pleasure in experimenting. It had all of time to make something, anything work.

Now you have it. This is the secret of life and existence. We are the playthings of mother bacteria. Hope it was what you were looking for.