Our existence is an echo of stars that no longer shine.
There’s a quiet kind of magic that lives in the human body. Not the kind found in fairy tales or fantasy novels—but the kind that lives in the silent truth of the universe. It’s easy to overlook, wrapped up as we are in the rush of daily life—chasing goals, worrying about tomorrow, forgetting the miracle of today. But beneath your skin, beyond your bones, deeper than your breath, lies a secret so profound that it can change how you see everything. You are made of stardust. Not as a metaphor. Not as poetry. As fact. The atoms that build your blood, your heart, your breath—they were once part of stars that died long before Earth was born. The iron flowing in your veins, the calcium that holds your skeleton, the carbon shaping your cells—none of it was born on this planet. These particles were created in the heart of ancient stars, scattered across space in explosions so powerful they lit up galaxies. And eventually, piece by piece, they came together—slowly, silently, in the womb of time...
