So the other day in class we were talking about how sometimes your experience with nature can make you feel really small. When you stand on top of a mountain, you realize you are very small. The example of killing a mosquito was used. It’s true, if you kill a mosquito… who cares? In my ‘little girl’ world I like to think that maybe his mosquito family cares, but in the large scheme of things the mosquito and his mosquito family don’t matter.
Ouch. It’s a hard pill to swallow. I am not the center of the universe.
I am the center of my own universe, obviously, but if I died (knock on wood) people in Asia would not care. In the whole world, the billions of people in the world, my death would maybe deeply affect 100 people. Realistically though, each individual life doesn’t weigh much. If a comedian dies, people might be sad for a while, but someone new will come to make them laugh and it won’t matter as much. It really makes you think about the way you live your life. I feel like at the end of the day we, as average people, do things just to be remembered. Why do you get married? To secure that someone will care when you die. Ok, that’s a little cynical.. a lot cynical. But it just really makes me question why we try so hard to do anything. Why go to school and work your whole life? So you can die without the world caring? But then the opimist in me comes out. As far as I figure it, if I can make one person a day smile, or laugh, or stop crying, then I will matter to someone, maybe not the world, but someone. That is my small rant on the meaning of life. In summary: be a good person so at least the people in your life will care when you die.
I’m not generally this disparaging. Must be having an interesting day today.
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