A Realization

I was sitting casually in my bedroom, thinking about this blog that I've sort grown tired of writing for, when I realized something: Nothing on this blog matters at all.

The "description" under the header of my blog has always said "This is my blog, I talk about things that matter" but today I have come to realize that this is a massive lie. As a person who talks constantly about existentialism and the inevitability of oblivion, it's fairly obvious that nothing I've written on this blog is actually "important." I feel like my description should instead read, "This is my blog, I talk about things that don't matter."

If you know me at all, it's obvious that I believe humanity is insignificant to the universe. Yes, all people contribute to shaping the world in some way and yes, everything that you do has led you up to reading this sentence. But this blog, in all honesty, is very negligible. The world would still turn and people would still go about their daily lives if I had never created it. The only thing that would change, really, is the amount of homework I'd have to complete.

Now, this isn't a blog post just to talk about how unimportant we all are (I've written one of those before). I just thought I would mention it because I suddenly realized that I sound very arrogant. I do not talk about things that matter, because different things matter to different people. Claiming that I am one of the only people who writes about these things (that probably don't matter) makes me feel sort of ridiculous.

Anyway, now that I've started this blog post, I should probably make a point.

I don't know about you, but a part of me feels like my life is unimportant. Maybe it's because I'm not Beyoncé, or maybe it's because I'm so small in comparison to the massive universe. This is sort of irrelevant to what I was just talking about but think about it: There are, what, 7.12 billion people on this planet? You're 0.000000000014035% of the planet's population – I looked it up. While maybe that's something that makes you feel small, it's also sort of amazing. In a world full of frustrating, vaguely annoying people, you were given this little life in which you go to school and eat fruits and vegetables. It feels nice, almost, to be so unimportant.

If you think about it, it would sort of suck to be famous. You've seen the movies: a pop star with her life planned out by someone else, stuck in a cycle of paparazzi and crazed fans. That's not what I'm talking about, though. Your life is an extremely personal thing. To be given your own hands and a mind that no one else could ever understand…it's sort of extraordinary.

It's like that Bill Nye quote: "Everyone you will ever meet knows something you don't." Everything that is currently shoved into your brain, everything that matters to you, and all the knowledge you've ever been given is all yours. No one will ever understand things like you do. You have a mind of your own with opinions unlike others'. You're a singular, individual personality. You're a separate person, detached from the realm of this troublesome world, and you exist.

This is absolutely the stupidest picture I've ever put on a blog post but.
Look! We're all different colored fish :)
Image Credit Here

A/N: I sort of went off on a tangent (10 points to Gryffindor for the use of the Vital Vocab word), so I apologize. To summarize: my blog does not matter at all, but it's alright because being small and distinctive is a good thing in a world full of different people who will never know you at all.