This

What is life? Most people ask this question as a joke, but what really is life? Is life the absence of death? Is it what distinguishes us from a pebble on the ground? We've only had consciousness since we were born, so life is all we know. Beyond life resides the unknown, and beyond that we don't talk about at the dinner table. People say that in our lives, it's easy to forget that we're privileged and that a lot of other less fortunate people have it worse. So whenever we're unhappy or unsatisfied, we are told to "not take things for granted" or "think about the kids in [insert third world country]." In my opinion, happiness and satisfaction in life are relative. Every person is born into different conditions and environments, and are raised in certain ways. So whether my name is Donald J. Trump or I live on the street in a cardboard box, we all have our own set of problems. So why is it that we think certain people or groups of people don't have the right to be unhappy with their lives? 

In David Foster Wallace's This is Water, he says that, "there is no experience you've had that you were not at the absolute center of." We humans can only experience one life- our own lives- and we aren't familiar with anything else. Therefore, Wallace's claim is undoubtedly true. Because we put ourselves at the center of the universe, we are forced to compare our lives with those of others. When someone has something we don't have, we get jealous. How come I don't have that? Why does he/she have that when I'm the one that truly deserves it? When we put our lives ahead of everyone else's, we forget that everyone else is doing the same. As I ended the last sentence, my mom just walked into my room asking me to come downstairs for dinner and I said, "after I finish this, it's due at 7." I'm putting myself at the center of the universe, revolving dinnertime around my schedule. Despite acknowledgement of the problem, we fail to alter our "default-settings," because the only feelings we truly know are our own. Was I wrong to be inconsiderate of the effort my mom took to make dinner? Probably. But the point is, we are all too busy with our own lives and our own agendas that we lack enough incentive to consider other people's perspectives. At the end of the day, the universe doesn't exist just for you or for me. It doesn't revolve around anything, really. It's just there. This is the universe. This is life. This, my friends, is water. This is also when my mom returns to my room to yell at me.