In my last post, I threw away every last bit of pride I had and begged for comments and wise words from the world of the internet. I got the most views I have ever gotten from one blog on that one, and this was really the only time that the numbers meant anything to me because I figured, the more numbers I get, the more likely it was that I’d get a comment. You would think after my incessant begging, someone would comment. Some shimmer of wisdom, a tiny glimmer of advice. Nope. Nada. Nothing. The equivalent of the internet flipping me the bird. Thanks internet, love you too.
So now I’m mad, not at the viewers, because that would be the very definition of counter-production. I’m just mad. Maybe I was freaking out much more than I really needed to. I mean, I’m still young, right? Right? I guess. I have accomplished nothing. You know what Micheal Jackson achieved by the time he was my age? A lot. There are Olympic gold medalists my age, and what have I done to give my name any significance in the history of the universe? Absolutely nothing. Except, well, write a blog and almost misuse the word ‘right’ a second ago. But even that means nothing to anyone, because no one really knows I’m behind this blog. No one really knows my name. I have done almost nothing. I’ll work on that later (I procrastinate a lot).
Even Olympians will die someday, though. Their names will only be remembered by the people who are after their titles and eventually their flames will die out. That sucks, doesn’t it? Knowing that no matter what you do, there will always be someone after you who is more memorable, and it will go like that on and on until the world ends. Even then, if you make a lasting name like George Washington, people will be so quick to point out your mistakes. You go from loving the father of this country one minute to listening to an audio book and having a totally different opinion.
Even further than that, if you make a name for yourself that lasts, and then you die and it comes out that you’ve never made any mistakes. You were freaking more pure than Virgin Mary, eventually this world will burn out. Then your name will really mean nothing. When all that’s left is the scorched remnants of what this planet once was and the rest of the universe, aliens may at one point exist that are as smart or smarter than we are. If they discover this planet, your name will mean nothing to them. Every last strand of what was once your life is gone, then, and no civilization will ever care again. That kind of makes you seem insignificant doesn’t it? When you look up at the stars at night and realize that somebody else out there may be looking back at you, revolving around their own star and all they see is our sun, if that.
Did you know that if an intelligent alien species is looking at earth through an extremely high powered telescope, then they are probably seeing dinosaurs because of the amount of time it takes the light to travel? Just something to think about. So, what are you doing with your life? Is it worth it? The only consolation I can think of when I think like this is, well, you. People, sitting at their computer, staring at the screen reading words that can change their minds. Words that can inspire people, make their life worth their time. Who cares if your name is remembered? Nobody, so don’t live your life for yourself, live your life for others. I may be sending mixed messages with this, but there is a bigger picture. Figure it out, it’s not that hard.