I discovered a truth long ago: the world does not revolve around me. I say I discovered it, but I’m still learning it.
Being literally on the other side of the world from everyone I love and who love me really does pose its difficulties. I often find myself wondering why they don’t stop their lives for me when I want to talk, or why they are doing fun summer things without me. This all sounds incredibly selfish, I know, but it’s just a truth. Now, I wouldn’t go as far as to call myself a selfish person: I mean, I wouldn’t actually try to stop these people from having fun without me or prevent them from going to sleep while I’m still wide awake. I just wonder why I’m not the most pressing issue.
But, as I said, I discovered that the world does not revolve around me – other peoples’ worlds, especially – and it will go on spinning without me.
Then there are moments in which I feel the world stop spinning. I feel like it stops, the camera pans out and it zooms out from me, and I really do realise that I am just one in a few billion. I feel so little and alone in the world, and I realise that this must be how everyone feels, because it’s actually the reality of how everyone in the world is.
I went to the Docklands in Melbourne last Friday, and I rode the Melbourne Star just as the fireworks show began (an event which my camera decided to miss). It really was breath-taking to be so high up, on top of the world, feeling like the most important person on this earth – and then realise that every other person who has ever ridden the observation wheel has felt the same way.
I’ll admit, these moments are quite upsetting, and I begin to feel like I don’t matter. I don’t know if I do or ever will, but, either way, the world will keep spinning, regardless.