In the grand tapestry of life on Earth, the narrative of Gorillini stands out not merely as an account of survival and evolution, but as a tragic comedy of colossal proportions. The great apes—our distant cousins—frolic and stumble through the annals of history like lumbering jesters, bringing both joy and confusion to the evolutionary stage. Thus begins the tragic tale of Big Apes and Their Extinct Dreams, a chronicle that explores the extent to which existence is not just about thriving, but about the heartbreaking fallout of unrealized aspirations. At the heart of this saga is the Gorilla, the undisputed king of the jungle gym, built with more muscles than some of the world’s bodybuilders. With a brawn equivalent to a small car and a face that could only be described as the epitome of “resting serious face,” gorillas have spent millions of years contemplating life's mysteries—like, "Why do humans pay to see our faces at the zoo when they can't even find the right way to peel a banana?" One might argue that these sentries of the forest have held onto the dream of being revered, respected, and perhaps even consulted as therapists for the confused hominids flailing through modernity. Alas, the quest for validation remains as elusive as the last banana in a grocery store. But the saga does not end with the sentient behemoths we call gorillas. Enter Chororapithecus, an ancestor cloaked in the dim mists of extinction. It was once hoped that these long-lost relatives would pave the way for understanding the deeper existential quandaries of their big-boned kin. Imagine a tribe of smallish apes, destined for greatness, their dreams tragically trodden beneath the inevitable boot of time. One can only surmise that they had ambitions much like those of musicians in rundown bars—playing to silent audiences, dreaming of crowds, and yet fading into oblivion like a forgotten melody. Tragically, they achieved exactly none of this. The enigmatic Nakalipithecus—a name that rolls off the tongue like a poorly pronounced foreign dish—is perhaps the most curious case of all. Could this be another lost dream? A taxonomic ghost haunting the complex tapestry of humanity’s family tree? It hovers in the shadows, inviting contemplation about what it means to be “possibly” anything at all. Its mere existence raises the high-stakes question: What if they were the Rousseaus of the ape world? What if they were the social commentators of their time, influenced by the spirit of enlightenment yet doomed to fail? History is a cruel mistress, after all, leaving legacies unfinished and stories untold. As we ponder the narratives of these big apes, it becomes clear that their existence shines a glaring light on the frailty of dreams. One cannot help but feel that within their sinewy forms and thick brows lies the residue of aspirations—dreams of roaming freely, building societies, and perhaps holding regular existential debates over the meaning of life. Yet, one by one, they fade from memory, their stories whispered only in softly turning pages of paleontological journals. It is also worth mentioning that each generation of humans feels obligated to admire and sometimes cringe at their simian counterparts. We often watch in amusement as gorillas emote their way through the trials of zoo life, only to feel a tight pang of regret as we realize that our fascination hinges on a sense of superiority. It is an unwarranted elevation of our species, as we parade around feeling adept while completely missing the point of existence itself, much like a child playing dress-up in their parent’s oversized shoes. Gorillini, it seems, holds a mirror up to humanity—reflecting our own fleeting existence, our aspirations, and our ultimate fate. It implores us to consider the weight of our ambitions while submerged in the glories of life and suffocating under the crushing reality of extinction. For, in the end, whether we emerge as gorillas, Chororapithecus, or mere shadows of Nakalipithecus, the echoes of our dreams must reverberate somewhere, even as they fade like the rustle of trees in the fading light of a forgotten forest. Thus, the tragic tale continues, with each chapter weaving through the fibers of existence like an intricate tapestry, reminding us that whilst we may strive for greatness, the potential for extinction always lingers, a bittersweet reminder of life’s impermanence. In this symphony of evolution, we are all undeniably part of the same tragic ensemble, performing our hearts out beneath the watchful eyes of history's great apes, forever fumbling through the dreams we somehow fail to achieve.