Naturally, we are so used to the idea of being alive, or so blinded by the hope of an after life, that we take the whole concept of being rather "different" living creatures who are experiencing something quite unique, definitely in the historical prospect, and also the individual perspectives, because our doom and destruction is our end (of course, perhaps not exactly an absolute one) for granted.
"Living" becomes so much of an ordinary, everyday type of redundancy in our lives that we forget how we actually do it, we totally disregard how special, unique, spectacular, and yet flawed and imperfect, the smallest details, and the biggest pictures, associated with our lives (in any way, structure or form) are.
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