I’ve thought about outer space for an unhealthy amount of time lately. It’s amazing to realize the Earth is simply a pale blue dot compared to everything else in the universe—or multiverse, if you please—but it is also disheartening. I’m sure many of us like to think one person can make a difference or change history, but it’s hard to imagine a single being affecting everything in this constantly expanding place.
I hate thinking about this. I don’t want to be nihilistic, because then I feel like there is no point to living. The only reason I’m writing about this is because I felt like if I thought about it for any longer, my mind would be stuck in self-destruct mode. I used to wonder how someone could think that there is no real meaning to life, but now I understand. It’s so easy to forget that I am mortal and that death is inevitable, but when I look at the big picture, I’m reminded of my insignificance. I want to have a carefree outlook on life, you know? Not one that allows me to do reckless things like texting and driving—not that I have the means to do either—or intentionally failing every class, but a viewpoint that isn’t so bleak. I don’t want to be weighed down by my thoughts anymore. ♦