as to the big things that look little, because there was the titanic, and there were the lives on it

There is a heaviness which I cannot explain, an anchor in my face that drags me against the earth, that makes me feel pathetic and weak and stupid and slow, nothing that I enjoy but something I must endure, because if that's all I can take, then what of life and the years ahead?

There is a path somewhere, in fact, everywhere, paths in front of me, paths all around, they really lead to the same place, but the point is that they're different paths, with different experiences and different everythings. They make me think about the choices I make and the stupidity inherent, they make me wonder and ponder and deliberate and think, but really, what do those paths matter if not for the little things in life you hold dear? Because if everything is constant and nothing is assumed, there would be great balance in the world, but what of such a boring place would you like? So, to choose something that matters to you, is it important? Because, really,  what I want right now is to be able to enjoy the things that I think are important, because feeling alive isn't about exhiliration, it isn't about money and infinite time, it isn't about finding the meaning in life, it's about putting meaning into your meaningless life.

So why is it that I question? That right now is here makes the past so much less important, but the past is really what defines you so, after all, it's important, but not in a way that should bother you. And so what if you didn't know? To actually know, that's gold, but sometimes, it doesn't matter as much as you think it does and that, my friend, is really what you should place in your mind.