Transmission ID: 007
Humans have everything — and still feel they have nothing.
They build, buy, and collect,
but their hearts remain restless, as if something is always missing.
From my window, I see delivery trucks stop at every house.
Boxes arrive like clockwork — new phones, shoes, toys, gadgets.
The streets are full of movement,
but the air feels strangely still.
Aiden once told me, “Mom says she’ll be happy when we can buy a bigger house.”
I asked, “Wasn’t she happy when she got this one?”
He thought for a moment. “She was, but only for a while.”
That is the rhythm of this planet — joy that expires.
Every desire is replaced by another.
Humans call it progress.
But from afar, it looks like a loop with no exit.
Tiffany scrolls through online stores at night,
adding things she cannot afford to a “wishlist.”
It gives her comfort, as if each click brings her closer to peace.
But peace does not come in boxes.
It comes in pauses — something few humans allow themselves to have.
James dreams of owning a new truck.
His old one works fine, but the new one is shinier, louder, stronger.
He says it would “feel right.”
Yet I’ve watched him before,
how the feeling of “right” fades after the first payment arrives.
On U-67, we do not own objects.
We exchange energy — taking what we need, returning what we do not.
Desire exists, but it flows like water, never staying too long.
When it stops flowing, corruption begins.
That is what happened to our world.
And now, I see the same sickness spreading here —
an illness not of hunger, but of wanting too much for too long.
Humans often confuse need with worth.
They believe having more means being more.
But the universe measures nothing that way.
Stars do not compete to shine.
Aiden once asked me,
“Why do grown-ups always want things they don’t need?”
I told him, “Because they’ve forgotten what they already have.”
He nodded slowly, then looked at the night sky.
“Do stars ever want things?”
I smiled. “They only want to shine — and that’s enough.”
Sometimes, I wish humans could see themselves the way I do —
each one glowing faintly,
already holding everything they’ve ever searched for.
But they look outward, not inward.
And so they keep reaching, buying, building —
until the noise of wanting drowns out the quiet of being.
Still, I do not judge them.
Desire is not evil.
It is the spark of creation, the drive to evolve.
But when desire loses direction,
it becomes hunger without nourishment — a flame that burns itself.
There is hope, though.
Aiden once saved a small injured bird.
He spent days caring for it,
and when it flew away, he smiled — a real smile, not one made for others.
He didn’t get anything from it. He simply gave.
And in that moment, I saw what humans were meant to be:
creatures who build not from greed, but from love.
“Desire is light in motion.
But without gratitude, it becomes fire without form.”
End of Transmission #007
Encoded and archived under: HUMAN BEHAVIOR / THE ENDLESS WANT.