One-Hundredth of a Light-Year Away

it’s strange to think that after all these years, i’ve only traveled a little more than one-hundredth of a light-year across the milky way — what a minuscule amount it is. over twenty revolutions around the sun, and yet the number feels almost comical. it’s a humbling reminder of how small we are in the grand scheme of the universe, a speck of dust in the vast cosmic ocean.

time itself is a human construct. growing older doesn’t necessarily mean growing wiser; some people simply accumulate years without reflection. i’ve met younger souls who understand life far better than those twice their age. this perspective and sense of cosmic scale is the foundation of how i try to live.

noisy world

when i internalize that scale, i start to see how much of human interaction is just short-term “noise”. from then on, i can’t seem to care less or have the patience to deal with gossip or second-hand interpretations. badmouthing others is a cowardly act, and i have zero tolerance or respect for it. i told a friend something i still stand by: “i don’t care what others say about you… if i want to know you better, i’ll ask you myself.”

this applies to being the subject of noise, too. i reminded a friend that other people’s opinions shouldn’t weigh more than their own self-worth. most people are too absorbed in their own lives to give a shit about others. if i catch myself judging someone — be it for their taste, habits, or hobbies — i ask: what does it matter to me?

most of the time, the answer is none. one of the most effective ways for me to manage this has been to step away from most social media. my mind feels lighter, i feel more content, and i have more time for what actually matters.

stepping away has helped me notice something else: for a problem to be real, the relationship must be real. if someone’s opinion comes from a place so distant that they don’t know me well enough for a direct conversation, then they don’t know me well enough to have a valid problem. their judgment is just surface-level noise, and i’ve learned to let it pass by.

my pace

once you filter out the noise, you can finally set your own pace.

my pace is asynchronous. i’m quite forgetful when it comes to people. i could literally leave a chat unread for days, but then reply as if no time has passed. it’s not done with malice; i just operate on a different frequency, one that isn’t dictated by push notifications.

my pace is deliberate. i believe honesty without kindness is cruelty, and kindness without honesty is manipulation. i’d rather be silent than say something unkind. silence is often the best response, and will result in an outcome far better than any words could achieve.

my pace is authentic. you can’t please everyone. you’re not meant to. i learned to not let other people’s opinions dictate my sense of self. it’s about being at peace with who i am, so long as my existence doesn’t harm others.

my orbit

another year, another revolution around the sun. i’ve never cared much for the obligatory wishes, especially when they only come once a year; what matters are the small, genuine gestures shared along the way.

my orbit is my own, but it’s been bent and shaped by the gravity of every person i’ve encountered. this is to you, who:

• kept me company during childhood
• always shared your water bottle with me
• trusted me to testify on your 17th birthday
• always kept me company after school
• dragged me to star in a short film with you
• treated me as a friend no matter what
• traveled the world just to play with me
• shared your thoughts and feelings with me
• went out of your way to help me in ping pong
• trusted and relied on me
• used me cold-bloodedly for your own gain
• stood by me through thick and thin
• welcomed me with open arms and heart
• stood up for me when i couldn’t
• forgave me when i wronged you
• taught me valuable lessons about life
• stayed by me when others left
• believed in me when no one else did

every single one who has been part of my life — whether still present or long gone — thank you. after all, you’ve literally been a part of my life and played a role in shaping the person writing this now, whether through kindness, hardship, or presence alone. every encounter, brief or lasting, has left its trace on my trajectory.