I have spent the day thinking. I’ve been trying to decipher what the most important of all the things that are important to me are. For instance, love is important to me, and truth is important to me. Is one more important than the other? Knowledge is important to me, experience is important to me. What if some things are like divergent paths and you can only choose one over another, instead of choosing all at once?
On top of all of that hullabaloo I’m also looking into what are other people thinking? And thinking about thinking? Thinking about our history? Our origins? Our Universe? Yes, I was watching things about the history of Physics, Unified Field Theory, new gadgets that interface the brain with computers, even theories about extraterrestrials, and research over prophesies about the end of civilization.
You may be thinking that I have smoked too much weed or something. I wish that was true because then I wouldn’t have to worry too much about any of these things. I am just absorbing all this and realizing that we as humans have discovered so much. We have been asking questions and trying to understand everything about the world, seen and unseen. Why I’m looking at all of this, is because I’m wondering where the hell do I fit into all of this?
I ask questions too, but that doesn’t make me a scientist. I have amazing ideas that are a revelation to me, shortly thereafter I find out I wasn’t the first one to think these things. I post a photograph of me on Facebook and people like it. What does that mean? Anything?
Some of you might be nodding right now and saying “Ah, I know! She’s having and existential crisis.”
You’re damn right I am. That’s what happens when I’m cooped up thinking too much about everything. When you get out there and you witness it all- for instance, the magnitude of the Grand Canyon- and you have a huge mind-fuck moment where you feel small and insignificant but wholly connected and important because YOU’RE HERE. Because YOU’RE WITNESSING IT!
I mean shit man! We’re all alive, but we’re wasting it! I feel like I’m wasting it. Friends and strangers alike tell me all the time that my life is always interesting and exciting that I always have so much going on. But I feel like it’s boring and that it’s slipping by me as I pick my nose, play solitaire, and sit on my ass (as it continues to grow wider), wishing that something interesting would happen finally once and for all.
All right, maybe you can relate to me on this. If so, please, I beg you, DO something. My something is writing. If I can write, and affect one person to do something that makes them feel like they’re not wasting their time, then maybe that means I’m not wasting my time either.
I love you all.