I have this habit that in calm, happy moments, I immediately think, "what the hell does this matter? would it matter if I died right now? Because I think I'm okay with that." In those moments, I just sit back, look up and think about how trivial it all is. Nothing I do in my life is going to make a significant impact on anything or anyone. My death will not disrupt nature. I'm purposeless. I'm like the 5 lbs. of styrofoam and 3 sheets of bubble wrap that comes with every mailed package: extraneous and unnecessary. But it extends beyond me. Nothing anyone does ever will ever matter. The world is doomed anyway. It's going to burn when the sun explodes...unless humans destroy the planet first. We're all just trying to make the best of a dying world infested with mistakes of the past and those to be made. I'm not saying I want to die right now, but I'd be okay with it. Anyway, I'm just getting pissed because I keep having these thoughts when I have a peaceful moment. It's like I can't get away from myself. I wish I wasn't so cynical. I keep fucking making myself crazy and I can't stop. I just keep thinking about how pointless this whole thing is.