Because in the end, nothing matters.
Feels awkward, to start the day with a thought like that. But it’s a bitter fact. Nothing matters. In the end. Not the people we choose to hold hands in church with, not the kind of soup we pick at the supermarket, or the lifestyle that we adopt.
But, sad enough, it all matters. Now.
And like it or not, we live in the now. We think ahead — humans are weird that way — and save for the future. Save money, save the journeys we’d like to make, save everything. We save ourselves now, hoping to take up life later on— in future.
But in the end, nothing matters. In future, once I’m dead and gone, it doesn’t matter that I had once smoked pot in school. But oh, it matters so much when I’m in school.
But, which matters to us more; the future, or this moment?
Sometimes, even thinking about it is meaningless. Because it won’t matter to me at the end of this post. But mid-way, it matters a lot. Not only because it’s giving me something to ramble about, but also because my decision now affects the course of my life.
This moment matters to me. The small choices matter. Like choosing to read alone, instead of throwing myself into a crowd of college kids drunk on their parents’ money. I know it won’t matter later. That’s why it matters now. Because it’s trivial. And short-lived. Because I’ll never get to make these choices again. I hold on to the things that matter to me now, because when I get to a point when nothing would matter anymore, I would remember these little choices.
Because, after all, even the death bed is just a moment. And then, it would be the now.
The Chaos Within 