The Redundantly Sung Woe about Mattering

Upon taking a stroll among some YouTube videos and then thinking back on certain young adult books I have read (The fault in our stars), I saw that there is a common theme in the lives of all human beings with vocations and that is our need to matter and to leave behind something in the world to be remembered by.

Human beings are assumed to have existed starting about 6 million years ago and today at a population of about 7.5 billion, I wonder if we have done everything we had been brought here to do. We run on ideas. Everything we do, every minute detail of every goddamn thing we do starts with an idea and there are 7.5 billion people out here thinking up ideas. I wonder if at this moment I am capable of thinking up an original idea that someone out there hasn’t already thought of. I wonder if there are any more great things left for common ethnic black girls such as myself to do.

I think it was pretty awesome when Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone and when Timothy Bernert-Lee developed the World Wide Web and when Shakespeare wrote his plays to change the way the entire world sees literature. I think it’s great how Louis Armstrong became quite the musical icon and how Martin Luther-King made his speech so eloquently we still recite it to this day , and how incredibly proud I am of Emperor  Menelik II who defended his country from colonialism making it the first and only African country to do so. I think it’s quite something what these incredible men have done. (Women have done some awe-freaking-some things too but at two hours after midnight, the above are all I can think of and they should be enough to make my point)

Is there anything original left to do? Life is a butterfly effect, every great thing done inciting a new great idea for more great things to be done. But now I think everything is derivative and with all this technology and need to preserve history and all, we are sure going to know it.

Life has sort of become a remake. And I mean some remakes are great, better lighting and all but they have as much taste and grace as an over eaten shenkora. (Excuse this derivative and bad food analogy. I’m just like that today)

I guess I suffer a little bit from this anxiety of dying a boring, pointless civilian as much as the next person. I would like to leave something behind because there was a time when I believed I came into this world for a reason. I am a believer in God and I believe the big guy works in ways we cannot ever understand and perhaps the sole purpose for him to put me here at the top bunk bed of room 47 of block 3 of Hedase Mender in Mekelle University, Arid campus Mekelle, Ethiopia, Earth is to simply write this post in the middle of the night. And then perhaps in this moment I have done all my life is worth so it would be okay for me to die and I wouldn’t even know that I have fulfilled my calling because life is so freaking unfair.

Well, I don’t know.

I saw something yesterday that makes this a little less unsettling. It’s a picture of a bunny saying to its food, “You are a good burrito.”

Before you get all judgy, let me explain it in the words of my very favorite great human being, John Green. “There are only different kinds of burritos. There is no best burrito so just be a good burrito.”

It’s always going to feel like someone is better at whatever we love to do. Someone is always a better singer and someone is always a better writer and someone is always better at making small conversation and someone is always better at juggling. I don’t know. But really, I don’t know if there can be a best one so maybe I should just try to be a good burrito. Not the best one, just a good one.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand now I’m hungry. I wonder what a real burrito tastes like.


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