“Slow down.”

The Uber driver looked up quizzically but it didn’t matter. Time stood still for me at the back of the car, as I watched the street signs change. The empty Boston roads stirred in me strange feelings that I couldn’t really pinpoint. I felt small. A speck of dust in the universe.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked, bewildered.

“Yes.”

I had never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I wondered if moments like this could ever be my own. Moments where I did nothing and simply allowed time to wash over me. Moments to myself that I didn’t have to share or explain to anyone.

I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to do anything, I just wanted to be.

Life is a series of linear events that eventually leads everyone to the same outcome: death. It is inevitable. I don’t know why I spend so much time worrying about school, grades, and what other people think of me, when in the end, it is all the same.

Yes, I should strive to be the best version of myself, but isn’t it kind of pointless? Life is a game I’m not supposed to win. No one is supposed to win. We’re all here to play, aren’t we?

Like some wise person said: it is not the destination, but the journey. We need to stop thinking about the future and what could be, and just be.

Slow down, and think for a second; aren’t you where you’re supposed to be?