A Post Wherein I Get Philosophical on Your Ass

I am nobody special.

I was looking through a scrapbook of my Kindergarten-8th grade years that my mom had completed. I marveled at how much I have changed, got nostalgic for good memories, and witnessed my transition from skinny to fatass and back again. I thought how cool it would be for others to see this scrapbook.
Then I realized nobody would give a shit. Who am I to have a book devoted to the chronicling of my journey through life? Granted, it was made by my mom, who certainly thinks I'm special, but who doesn't have a personal scrapbook? Everyone looks at theirs and thinks what a long, eventful life they've lived, but it's a life that doesn't matter.

I was reading a book at Borders the other day called Stuff White People Like. There was a section that poked fun of how most white Americans think it's their right and responsibility to follow their dreams. It was all in good humor, but I began to feel ashamed and a bit disappointed. I lead a very comfortable life by the world's standards. Why should I be allowed to be happy and do what I love, when most of the rest of the world is struggling to survive from day to day?
The song "My Life" by the Game featuring Lil Wayne comes to mind. If you haven't heard it, it opens with the Game shooting Weezy over some sort of argument. I wonder how many times a day that happens. Not with those specific rappers, but, you know... people. In the song, the artists lament about lost friends and unanswered querstions that stem from a life that is unimaginably difficult to me.
This line of thinking won't discourage me from pursuing what I love, though. The opportunity has been laid in front of me for whatever reason, and I choose to take it. I'll just try not to bitch and moan if I don't become as successful as I want or don't "change enough lives". It doesn't matter what I do, anyway.

Think back in history. Think of all the people who, in your mind, made a difference or were significant. Got them in your head? Good. Now try to imagine all the people who just lived. People who never became significant, influential, or even known. Depressing, isn't it?
The same applies to the future. It doesn't really matter what happens, because we won't be able to stop it. Certainly we'll decide what happens, but if you want things to stay the same or want what's different than what will probably happen, then that's just too damn bad. It's no use trying to "change the world" or "change the future." There are too many influences. Not one person can do it. At least not in a big way.
The universe is a big place, anyway. Who's to say it matters if humanity is doomed? For all we know, we don't matter at all. Maybe those aliens in Independece Day should have gotten rid of us.
The future is constantly coming, and simply by existing each one of us affects what is happening, and thereby the future. Every moment you exist, you have some sort of impact. Of course, your very existence was determined by an infinite number of factors completely out of your control. I don't know if it was supposed to occur that way or not, but it's pretty neat and very humbling that it did.
And I know it sounds cheesy, but you can have influence even after you die in some way. Even after ceasing to exist, in some miniscule yet very real way, you can still have influence on the universe.

So I guess in a way maybe I am somebody special.