I think, dear readers, that you should know I’m a bit of a nihilist. It’s an ideology I adopted around the 3rd grade while staring at a poster of a simulation of the known universe. Nine is a pretty young age to be contemplating how our galaxy was too small to even be visible at such a grand scale, but there I was. The universe is unthinkably huge and nothing we do here will matter to the cosmos. It comforts me when my countrymen do things that make my stomach turn. It allows me to spend my time how I wish without feeling that I’m wasting an irreplaceable resource. Nihilism doesn’t work for everyone though. My wife gets depressed and begins to feel that her life is pointless in the face of our insignificance. Me? I kind of like not mattering.

Now I’m 33 years old and don’t have a clue what to do with my life. Goals and dreams have adapted and changed since my youth thanks largely to reality putting a boot to my neck. I work in video, but I’m pretty sure I will never direct a movie. I don’t even like the career I did manage to achieve anymore. I might have been able to become a doctor once upon a time, but that’s a decision that I should’ve made 15 years ago. “They” always say to do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life. What do I even love to do? I like anime, but the localization industry seems to be shrinking, and even if I could find a job, it would require uprooting my whole world. I love video games, but I don’t know the first thing about programming. So I guess I just unintentionally broke down why I’m paying money to throw my thoughts into the Internet’s gaping maw. But hey, we all feel this way from time to time. It’s valid. Hell, it’s the most normal thing in the world. So when the inevitable heat-death of the universe makes life on our space-pebble impossible, it won’t matter that I didn’t personally change the world. The void don’t give a damn.