the beginnings of my great autobiography

I was walking along the road this morning, on my way to work, wondering about the world, my hair and death.

I was wondering about the world because it always seems that wherever I am, each person I walk past seems to look at me more intensely than they would anyone else. I always take it as somewhat of a compliment, though I can’t seem to help thinking that maybe that’s how it is for everyone in the world. That isn’t to say that everyone glares at everyone else. What I mean is that everyone thinks that they are being looked at, when really they aren’t. This thought lead me to an idea; every person thinks that he or she is the centre of the universe. I don’t mean that in a literal sense, but it is the nature of the human mind to believe that we are the most important – animal instincts denote this for our survival. However, from my perspective I can say quite easily and justifiably that they are all wrong, and are indeed living deluded in my world. But, to entertain the thought that each person thinks they are the centre of the universe; are they not concerned that what they are doing or have achieved or even will achieve is not really good enough for the centre of the universe. For instance, someone who works in a large corporate office, maybe one of fifty, goes to work every day and completes the same task time after time. They start work in the morning and go home in the evening. They eat dinner, and then they sleep, and then have breakfast and the cycle continues. This is quite a clichéd and overworked idea, but in essence it is true. Now, if someone in one of these washing machine cycles, going around and around, thinks that they are the centre of the universe, they should then see or think that the universe is quite bland and un-exciting. The person at the centre of the universe drives everything around them and decides it’s nature involuntarily by their own actions. This word, ‘universe’ gives the impression of vast greatness and wonder. But for one of these sorts of people, there is no grandeur or wonder. So how could they possibly convince themselves that they are the centre of the universe?

This perspective is shown though as a representation of an arrogant individual who has not achieved the heights that they’re unjustified confidence condemned them to. There is a flip-side to the coin. There are those who are humble, content and intelligent. Those who don’t believe that they are the centre of the universe, but that they are a part of a greater life.