The universe is a place of infinite distance. The infinite space of the universe holds an infinite amount of matter. Matter exists inside an infinite bubble of time. All of this, and nothing to disappearing as quickly as it came.
When I think about my life, it seems like quite a long time. I remember my first day of school, sitting in a circle with a dozen other toddlers I’d never met. Soon, we learned how to interact, play and to hold small conversations. We’d all achieved one of the greatest occurrences in nature, the forming of a society. Soon after, I learned simple things like building blocks, coloring with crayons and using a chair. In actuality, these were the functions of using technology, creating art and ingenuity that are some of our most subtle yet greatest achievements. Those were only the first five years on my life.
Thirteen years later, I have reached the end of childhood. I have formed the foundation on which I will live my life. I feel I have generally experienced all basic emotions a person can feel, like love, hate, sadness and joy. The causes change with age but the feeling is the same. In adulthood, I will attend college, training specific skills and senses to ready myself for any career I choose. Someday, perhaps, I will have children, continuing my lineage into another generation. Then, my children will start just as I did, and the chain continues.
Humans, as a race, are a miracle. We have proven to be the outstanding species on our planet, with mental powers strong enough to look deeper into our environment (industry, technology) and ourselves (art, culture, philosophy).
All this has been experienced billions of times over by billions of people. Yet, it means nothing.
I can’t quite encompass how my long my own life seems, let along those older than me, and let alone multiplied by the billions of lives lived on this earth. Yet, as a whole, it really doesn’t mean anything. Someday, it will all come to an end, for all of us.
I believe in nothing. I believe that in the grand view of things, we are nothing but dust. We come from the dust, we live on the dust, and in the end, we become the dust once again. All our wars, knowledge, love, hate, culture, technology, hopes, dreams and even our lives basically mean, well, nothing.
But do I worry? Do I lose hope knowing my entire existence could really mean nothing at all? The way I think about it, life, no matter how irrelevant it may be, is all we’ve got. It’s mine to hold, mine to live, just to enjoy all the simpler things in life. And as far as I can tell, there’s nothing to stop me from grabbing onto life and holding on for the ride while it lasts, from preschool, through childhood, into adulthood, and until my death. And, maybe even a little bit after that.
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