July 15, 2013

Dear Angelynn,

Sometimes I wonder what is the point of doing things when we're all to die in the end. This is the pessimistic side of me, and the fact that it flits through my mind at all is proof enough that I am in fact, a pessimist.

Apparently people like to accomplish things because it fills an empty void within themselves. But what for? As if their small trivial feats will somehow preserve their names even after death. As if after dying they can still somehow be alive if their names are still uttered from people's lips? And what would it change? Would that single name preserved in history books make you feel alive? Do you strive to be remembered in bits of binded paper?

I'm sorry. I just got back from the Psychology of Death class, which has probably only worsened my existential crisis. I just can't help but feel small and insignificant. Helplessly flailing in this large world. Suffocated by the sheer mass of the universe. And I am just one person. So very, very small, that any famousness is temporary. That brief spotlight of glory that everyone seems to be searching for, fades away through space and time.

Yet, we still try. Why? Why is that? We try to do something remarkable as if in the course of time as if expected to immortalized by our "greatness." A greatness that we have dubbed upon ourselves or that other people dub on us. But what makes this greatness? This concept of "better" and "best" seems fictionalized. With our small brains in this great galaxy, who are we, who am I, to decide what is "better."  Who are we to decide what is talent? Who is to be shunned? Who isn't cool enough? Who is a jerk? 

Why do we label the only people in the universe who are just like us. We categorize and scrutinize and judge the seven billion people on the planet, who share 99% of the same DNA, and we shouldn't feel alone, but we separate ourselves purposely. And for what? If we shove people out of the way to become remarkable and outstanding and marvelous is that to help us somehow.

Because we do that now, to preserve ourselves later after we've passed away. Apparently the loneliness now is worth it once we've gone beyond feeling. 

But back to the initial question, Angelynn. We try because if we're all reaching up together, we wind up in the same place. And maybe that's not what they want. Maybe they want to look out and see the people beneath them. Sooner or later, they realize how awfully lonely it is, but they see everyone scrabbling to reach the top of the ladder. It's all right in the end.

And Angelynn, I might be a pessimistic being, but the fact that there are so many people out there striving to achieve something; they must be optimistic. They must have hope that in fact there is some reward for them in the end. And it's beautiful this optimism fueled progress, because with the 7 billion people in the world all moving upwards, so much can be done. So much can be discovered and uncovered and creative that perhaps, this tiny little blip of a planet can actually establish its mark in this deep dark universe.

Angelynn, I think I call myself a pessimist, because that's the side I see first. I can't help but feel that deep within me, or even within every pessimist, hope remains. I can see the brighter side of things and I can think things through and I can achieve if I put my mind to it. I can craft and think and consider myself remarkable. I can consider the entirety of humankind remarkable. Because although we chose sides and wage wars and make stupid decisions, someone is always there to back you up. On the top or on the bottom, we are never really alone. I think I can find solace in that.

Angelynn, I hope you find that these stereotypes don't matter. There is no "better than you" or "worse than you." We are all human and we are equal in some way or another. There's just so much to us, that within this race an opposite doesn't exist. So, forget about advancing yourself, because you are in fact, not better than everyone else, nor are they better than you. Coexist. Advance. Progress. That's what being human is about.

xx

Angela