YOU NAME IT

"THE STUDY OF INSIGNIFICANCE"

We all know how cool Michael Phelps is with his impossible to look away from muscles. Or how hot Bill Gates has become over the years with his sexy cash. Generally, all of this rock's inhabitants strive towards becoming one of these two guys. Or there's a third option where you are inspired by a sweet old man who published a very successful magazine with its title compulsively demanding a boy to play and have fun. How innocent.

You are most probably one of the following.

1. You're following your passion and doing what you love.

2. You're looking for a highly acclaimed career in the magazine industry.

3. You're all about those delicious greens justifying your whole existence.

But no matter which of these paths you choose, you want to be "The best at it". You don't want to get the silver medal, even though it's almost just as impressive, that gold, ah sweet, sweet gold. No matter what you do, this rule applies.

And if you get the silver instead of gold, you can't help but feel like your efforts have been for nothing, like you've been insignificant, and all the praise and importance in the world goes to the guy who stole the number one spot away from you.

But if you had just visited the astronomy like I'd advised you, you'd have realized how trivial we and our enterprise are. (Maybe a speck of dust is important to you, well then sir I meant no offense.)

But you're really not that concerned about our destination-less journey in the universe, because no record evidently shows that there is life other than ours in the universe. You celebrate life, cause it has been made for earth exclusively and you feel good cause we are special.

But then you hear a ringing tangible voice talking over the speakers about the universe, and she says this: "Only 4 percent of the universe is known and the rest is called dark matter". And she continues talking about space like she didn't just say the craziest thing ever.

And we have no choice but to feel that sense of despair taking over our whole body, taking over what could be described as "sane" one day.

That's the sweet feeling you get when you realize all is trivial. Even that one time you fingered your nose, and rubbed it off under the sofa.

But the thing is, that we all are parts of this, even those advanced tech aliens in another galaxy, cause in a sense we are all insignificant. Where no one is in the center of the universe and all that's around is the result of some mathematical procedures. You're just as significant as Michael Phelps is with all of his gold medals (0 = 0).

So just say "fuck it" and download the app "Tinder", meet a dozen of chicks and go to the local pub, then proceed to drink your revelations about the universe away. Cause that, my friend, is the true answer.

We all wish we had taken the blue pill.

(TO BE CONTINUED)