An Ape’s Lifecycle.

An Ape’s Lifecycle.  

Ulises Vargas

December 26, 2025. 

Age. Potent and unavoidable. 

With every second, energy is used. 

And the body ages. 

My blood now is not the same 

as my blood as a baby. 

So vital once, 

when the hourglass had just flipped. 

I had a whole life ahead of me, 

and all the time in the world to figure it out. 

So days passed. I filled the days with fleeting pursuits. 

I studied what I wanted, and worked for bosses. 

I laid in bed and thought of nothing while doing nothing. 

I talked to some people about nothing. 

I made a career of some vague passion, 

pursuing comfort and wealth. 

I ran and I walked and I crawled in my wheel.

 

I let the time go by,

while I did nothing. 

I can hardly believe it:

that I once stressed 

over inconsequential people

whom I don’t remember now;

playthings and toys, I forget now. 

None of that is in front of me 

where I am now. 

None of the life I hence toiled 

came to stick around. 

My home is on earth. 

My work is on earth. 

My children are on earth. 

But I won’t always be 

on earth. 

And my  

won’t be mine. 

And my perspective 

will go with me

off this earth. 

The world will continue

with or without me. 

Friends I made, 

and friends I found, 

came and went;

flew and fled. 

As did I. 

Even what I see now, 

I will, one day,

leave behind.

What existence I live now 

is temporary and vain. 

What existence I’ve lived 

was temporary and vain. 

Everything passed by 

and I fell in love 

with the whirlwind. 

I spun fast

and I spun slow. 

I held hands, 

and—

just as many times—

I let go. 

I know we all must go sometime. 

Yet, as I am now to let go 

for the last time.

the gravity is momentous. 

I held onto life, 

then let one chill breath, 

and I finally let go. 

Who would’ve figured 

that it’s less lonely in death?