To improve. My home; my productivity; my relationship with my lover, my parents, those around me; my work; my study; my habits in general. 

It all seems so overwhelming at times - but then I remember, I have a lifetime to get these things in check. And if some of those things pass in the meantime before I've 'improved' to my own unrealistic standards, well, so be it. I've tried. 

As long as I'm trying to improve, I'm improving. 

I'm caught in a seemingly nonexistent, undefined ideology/philosophy that there is a creator - a god, if you will - but one who merely set everything into motion. It may not even exist any more (in our realm? In our time? What even is existence?), let alone 'hear', 'see' or 'adore' every one of its creations. But this idea, rather than throwing me into a state of hopeless despair, is what drives me to improve, to love, to create. My insignificance in this universe is inspiring - it makes me feel more connected to the world, the universe, and the beings within it than ever. I am one of an unimaginable number. My body will exist for a finite amount of time. There is no all-seeing, all-loving and all-powerful entity setting my path, guiding me, or keeping me safe from harm. I have no special purpose, I am not unique, I have no divine right over any other creature or thing on this earth. 

Why is this a depressing thought to so many? Why do people seek out some mystical 'truth' - an antidote to this insignificance? It makes my heart sing that I've been given this great privilege of life, of consciousness, of the very ability to wonder; I'm not going to waste it by pretending that there should be more.