Mini Brain Dumps

Our universe spans over thousands of light years in length, and just as far in depth. And yet here I am, a speck of dust in the otherwise infinite universe. I am not an Einstein or a Shakespeare; heck, I can’t even muster up the energy to get out of bed some days. And I find myself wondering: is this really it?

I know – asking about the meaning of life. A bit stereotypical. But there has to be more, right? More than just rolling out of bed, going to work, coming home, relishing in the few moments of “me” time before repeating it all over again.

Of course, there are moments that break up the monotony. I distinctly remember a time when I was driving home in the middle of the night. A deer ran in front of me, and I swerved around it, missing it by maybe an inch or two. I pulled over to the side of the road to stop the hammering of my heart against my chest and breathed in gulps of air, only to look up and see lights interspersed among the tall grass that the deer had run out of. And it was mesmerizing to watch them flit about in the darkness, almost like the twinkling of stars in the night sky. Those fleeting instances are tiny and powerful reminders that life is more than just monotony.

But then I return to work. And the days go by slow, but the months go by fast. And I realize that I haven’t done anything meaningful, anything impactful.

But words are powerful – some might even say mightier than the sword. There are words that people have spoken to me out of anger that I still carry to this day – being called ugly or fat or stupid. There are moments of kindness that changed the course of my life, that helped me out of a dark place that would’ve surely consumed me.
And maybe that’s why I write.

Words have a way of capturing the essence of existence, of painting the vastness of the cosmos on the canvas of our minds. Each word, a star; each sentence, a constellation. Writing, to me, is like navigating through a galaxy of thoughts, where each idea shines with its own unique brilliance.

And maybe that’s the key. To dream, to hope, to believe that our lives, no matter how small, are part of something bigger. Each day is a blank page, an opportunity to write our own story, to seek out the moments that make us feel alive. It’s not about grand gestures or monumental achievements, but about finding joy and meaning in the everyday.

So here I am, a tiny speck in the universe, still searching, still wondering. But I am also still writing, still dreaming. Because even in the vastness of space, even in the face of life’s uncertainties, I hold onto the belief that there is more to be discovered, more to be lived. Even if I’m just a speck of dust, I know that my story matters. It matters because it’s mine, and in this infinite universe, that is enough.