Ruins

I am having a massive anxiety attack because I look out at the Grecian ruins, and they're beautiful, and they look like sherbert made out of stone, and I can't even begin to comprehend how old they are, or how many people had to suffer to build them, or how many people had to die behind them, and now there is a gift shop on them, and it sells little clay versions of the big stone ruins, and it sells ice cream that is made out of chemicals and not ice OR cream, and what will the gift shops sell in 3000 years, and no one can know because time is a continuum for now, because we are specks, and that's OK, but it feels less OK when you are around ruins.