Harry Pears

One evening, I think it was Boxing Day, I was lying in bed, staring out of my window. My eyes were drawn to this one star, the brightest I could see, in front of me. I was transfixed on this star for several minutes. And it made me think.

We are insignificant. All of our actions, our steps, our lives. They do not matter. Nothing matters. We are nothing but tiny people, on a tiny planet, in the middle of an unimaginable expanse of what we do not know. It would take over thirteen billion lightyears to travel to our cosmic horizon. That is over 7.64204976 × 10^22 miles (That is over 76 sextillion miles – in American terms). An inconceivable distance; it is nothing but a number to me, and probably most people alive.

But with this, I am not trying to say that your life is worthless and what you do is pointless and you may as well just give up now. No, far from this, in fact. Take from this what you please, but what I am trying to say is to take every opportunity, do everything. Have no regrets.

Okay, that was pretty clichéd, but, no matter what anyone says, it’s good logic; why bother what anyone thinks of you, when humanity is only a small race, in a minuscule “corner” of the universe.

Right, so any aliens out there probably aren’t going to be judging you, and what is out there doesn’t matter to how you live your life. But, when you lay there thinking about it, you do realise how small you really are, and how pointless the whole concept of life really is.

So, why not make it as good as possible?

This was mainly a way in which I could remember what I am thinking. And a prompt, I guess. And also procrastination.

I also have another couple of bits of writing I could finish. But I should probably start my revision first.