I always find it funny when people remind me how small the Earth is in the grand scale of reality. They’ll say “if you were on Mars, the Earth would be a literal speck in a sky filled with stars peppered in every which direction.” They will remind me that the Universe is immeasurably large, and that our planet has a surface area of just under 200 million square miles. And then they will tell me that we’re all miniscule and that we are just atoms on the grain of sand that is Earth. That our lives are insignificant and that we shouldn’t strive for anything because humanity achievement isn’t achievement at all if we die alone and without a guarantee of promotion. Then they will explain how there is no true sense of humanity since humanity in itself is just a stage of the Earth’s life (the most self-harming one to date). How dinosaurs were here for 165 million years, but people have been here for around 200,000 years. And that our existence is coming to a close and unmistakable end.

And then I laugh because of how funny their attempts are. If I were on Mars and looking up, yes; the Earth is small. Stars are brighter due to no human-derived pollution… and a lack of atmosphere. 100 times less of one than we have. If something comes through our atmosphere, it gets destroyed if it’s small. If something comes to Mars, it slams into the planet, and could very well be my end if I were to look at the sky from its chalky and lifeless surface. This is to say that the Earth matters. It is the only planet we can live on. It is the purest symbol of life in the universe because it’s what we know. The universe is massive, and we a speck amongst specks. But this small home, 200 millions square miles in area, contains more than we can ever find in a lifetime.

And because of this lifetime, we all have a small semblance of humanity even in our most dire straits. And the critical evidence of beauty outside of the destruction of a lost hope in the human condition is a very persuasive ballast. We are here to love, give, learn, and find ways to better tomorrow’s swimmers for the hellish waters of a modern life. Dinosaurs couldn’t finger-paint and we can’t eat a Triceratops whole; it is meant to be this way, since we have cognition. We know what beauty is in the world, and the dinosaurs knew what the taste of another dinosaur complemented. I could call them the first food critics, but they selfishly kept their opinions to themselves. Perhaps we could, as a bigoted and hateful society, learn from this.

If our existence is coming to an end, so be it. If I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go. I have this sunny disposition due to the powers that be telling us that they are here for our protection while they threaten a society with children learning the wonders and beauties of a sunrise with nuclear war. We sit on our computers, text while in front of friends (who don’t mind since they, too, are texting). We drink and abuse drugs out of boredom. We also drink and abuse drugs from loss. And this is where we have to come to terms with where we are. We are a society of angels in an exclusive purgatory, and we all want to be the ones who get the wings for the VIP room that is heaven. But it has to be MY heaven, and not the heaven of the man to my left or right. Or the woman in front of me who has never had the ability to claim it as her heaven. The subjects of an existent heaven or the self-destructive modern humanity are less frequent as the birthing status of the fourth Kardashian. We have to spell check “unconditional” and “intimacy,” but we can spell “homicide” and “failure” just fine.

Let the world fall down, so we can pick her up and tell her we love her. Let these powerful few turn into a dying many. Let us all find grace and solace in the fact that regardless of how we live our life no one has the ability, through torture or otherwise, to make the person you are in your brain someone else. I find that comforting, since images and hate tell us who to be on the outside. I also find it comforting that I haven’t had a grey hair yet. I can still accomplish things and claim my youth. And I can want to accomplish things instead of having the office job until late retirement and fear of whether or not my children will hate me once I’m dead. I will know that when I have my children, boy or girl, they will be able to tell me who they love, boy or girl, and I will just tell them “good luck to you.” Because love isn’t what it used to be in my mind. I understood unconditional attachment when I was 6 in a full sense better than I do now. I understood what it meant to love someone entirely through seeing my parents’ smiling faces, together, when I was 6. I also understood that looks can be deceiving when those smiles became screaming lines just shortly after. Innocence is a gift and that’s humanity’s first loss.

I guess I’m just trying to say that I know how insignificant the Earth is. That at any moment, we could lose axis and spin off out of orbit. At any moment, a great rift in the sky could occur, and we can see ourselves in another dimension of life. I wonder if I’m still me somewhere else. I almost pity them if so; I hope I’m not bland enough to have a singular identity. I know how significant life is and the insignificant labels we put on it. We only get supplied one, so demand is never an issue. We get to experience heartache and cosmic levels of depression that can render ground to shake. We have the luxury of finding love in small, beautiful things. Small, ugly hearts at times. Large, fruitful dreams that lead to the reimagining of what it means to be alive. Ideas about telescopes to see the heavenly bodies and find their worth. Chemistry that can help us see the dinosaurs’ age and marvel in their ability to stand each other for eras. New beliefs of psychology and philosophy that can remind us of who we are and that we are walking, talking brains that have the ability to give so much that it can ruin life. And in the grand scale of reality, how beautiful the human mind is when it comes to the meaning behind a small blue dot in an infinite sky of bright shiny objects.

I would like to think that one day we can all face the void of reason and come out with a laugh and the acknowledgement that we can never know. Reading the newspaper and not seeing an attempt to scare society. The killing and beating of different strangers because of a feeling in their heart. Because color molecules in their skin made them unlike you. In death, I am hopeful that we can find a better world. A love that surrounds us. I’m not sure it’s there, but if we can dream it, why shouldn’t it be real? When the world is a stage, be the best player you can be. Because if you can make the viewers laugh or cry, you will be remembered; the Sun will smile down when you usually squint, annoyed. Douglas Adams wrote it best: DON’T PANIC. Enjoy the music, the sex, the food, the jokes, the feelings of indescribably beautiful love that will pulsate in your heart. The feelings that records a moment that you will recall decades from occurrence. Enjoy your opinions, if they are sound and have reasonable value. I love Huey Lewis & the News and Meshuggah at the same time. This doesn’t mean I’m conflicted. I just realize that even with the Earth and my life being so miniscule in the eyes of others, there is so much in this world worth sitting down and enjoying while taking slow breaths. The air is usually a lot more fulfilling when there’s no one around to remind you that it’s polluted. And even if he were to tell me every chemical in it, I wouldn’t care. Because the Earth and I, for a brief moment, would be one in the same. And that is enough for me to know that we matter. And even when we die, the embrace of what is to come shall be so glorious that it wouldn’t matter what came after. Because I will be there waiting to say I told you so.