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I expect my consciousness is a connect-the-dots affair; a consequence of some trillions of atoms gathered and enlivened through the energy of our nearby star; energy cascading down pathways of chemistry from order towards disarray; assembling matter along the way into blood, muscle and bone; energized by a consequent force called life; driven by an emergent awareness of environment and self; to gain the upper hand on living; to stay alive and carry on; to know something of myself and of others; to even celebrate life and fear death - a consequence of some trillions of atoms.

A lattice of empty space

Born, alive, and living.

Consciousness,

Somehow emerged

From a lattice Of empty space

And so, I'll go on thus alive and aware for my fourscore years and change. I'll do some things along the way which the lattice of atoms suggests I should: find a mate, make a baby, do some work, write some words, and perhaps reflect upon the sun setting into the sea. And then the energy will stop. My lattice of atoms will cease their assembled action, and fall to pieces, and go their separate way - trillions of tiny pieces, broken and scattering, with no record or memory of their past work, just trillions of little bits jostling away into a darkening night, Brownian motion always, at every level, the slowing movement of frozen energy grown colder still with the passage of life.

And these thoughts I will remember as I begin now another day. And tomorrow, I will remember these thoughts again: as a reminder of what I really am, and really am...not.