I'm at the beach again, which means I'm supposed to feel small again. You know, the vast ocean compared to the small human - you're supposed to feel insignificant at times like these. Truthfully, though, I don't - at least, not any more than I normally do.
If I ever need to feel insignificant, all I have to do is look out the windows of my house and watch all the cars go by. Look at all those people, I tell myself. You don't know any of them and they don't know you. You have no idea what their stories are - where they're going, or why they're even in the car to begin with. For all you know, they want to change the world, just like you. Then again, maybe they're just mindlessly going from one place to the next - like the train-riders in The Little Prince. "They are asleep in there," said the switchman, "or if they are not asleep they are yawning. Only the children are flattening their noses against the windowpanes."
I was looking at one of my old friends' Facebook pages the other day, and I came across this:
About me: Honestly, It's not really about me at all.
yep.
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