You know not what I now know

I used to think like you. I used to look for meaning. I used to want things to matter. I used to think that there had to be some greater purpose to my life, to my presence.

But there isn't. Nothing we silly little humans do means anything. None of it matters. Ultimately, nobody cares.

We're all beautifully worthless, you know. Everything that we worry and care too much about, every meticulously planned action and line, all were completely, blissfully unimportant in the end.

In the end, we all die. We are forgotten, if not soon, than eventually.

That idea used to terrify me, it used to make me wonder why I bother doing anything, why I bother placing value in anything.

But eventually I realized the truth: it's liberating. It's liberating not to matter, not to mean anything. Nothing has any inherent meaning, so it's your job to assign meaning. or not to. You can - and  should, I think - do what makes you happy, because that's the only thing you truly control. You should work for yourself, for your interests, because when humans have gone extinct, nobody will remember you anyway.

If you know what I now know, you'd be selfish.