22 Million Years

I just realized that nothing matters. Literally, nothing.
It takes 22 million years to make one complete revolution around the Milky Way. How long are you alive, maybe 80 years, and 90 if you’re lucky? That’s nothing.
Your existence doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter if you’re fat or skinny or white or black or rich or poor. It doesn’t matter who you date or how many people you kiss. It doesn’t matter what summer job you have or what you got for Christmas. It doesn’t matter which guy you have a crush on, or who your parents are because in 500 years no one will remember that you even existed.
You do not matter. Your money and clothes and weight and cars don’t matter. Your husbands and wives and children don’t matter.
So slow down. Take a break. Stop worrying about grades and weight and clothes and material things. Look at the stars. Forget about disagreements and petty fights. Put aside your pride, and apologize. Understand that most of the things that you worry about don’t really matter. Understand that you don’t really matter. Accept that. Move on.

Because once you realize that you don’t matter to the grand scale of the universe, you can start to see how much you matter right now. You might not be able to change the earth’s revolution around the Milky Way, but you can change someone’s day. In the cosmic sense of things, you are less than a speck of dust, but to an individual person, you may be the world. Find the people who mean the world to you, and never let them go.
Make your own individual world the best it can be, and stop worrying about things that don’t matter.
Because really, nothing matters. And because of that, every moment matters.