Significance, wavering
I used to think I was going to change the world. Not in an activist sense that I would make the world a better place. I just felt sure that in some grander scale of things, there would be some mark left of my existence. And that that was a good thing in itself.
Now, I'm not sure anymore. I don't know if anything I will ever do will make a difference. Life seems so relative, so unforgivingly, inconsolably subjective. What I do affects everything around me, sure, but I feel like whatever I do, good or bad, doesn't really matter. There's no yardstick to measure up against, no scale to weigh good or bad, no inherent value in any deed, action or thought.
It's like it doesn't matter if my life amounts to anything. Doesn't matter if I make a splash or not. Doesn't matter if I do good—or bad.
Why even try?
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