I just had the mind obliterating realization (again) that I will die one day, and that I am one being existing on one planet within the vast expanse of our universe whose total life span will mean absolutely nothing in about 100 years (which is no time compared to time.)
Why does every little thing affect me so terribly then? Every time I stress out about school and life and how terrible I'm doing (even though I'm not), I really need to stop and remember how little my life actually means. I will save no one, do nothing memorable, and that's fantastic. I am meant to enjoy it while it lasts and that means if I can't write a goddamned essay right now, then fucking hell, I can't write the essay right now!
So I should stop worrying what anybody or anything thinks of me and just do whatever I think is best, because it will all mean nothing in the end. At the very end.
IT WILL ALL MEAN NOTHING.
Mona
P.S. Though it doesn't sound like it, this is a happy post. I am very happy right now.
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