Winter break has always been a time where I sit by myself a lot and think. Usually I think about things that have no real practical value in my life and are honestly not very useful thoughts in the first place. The thoughts usually start to creep in when the sun goes down (and everyone knows how early the sun goes down in the winter). It always makes me sad sitting alone in the dark at 4:45 PM in what is now technically night. I think about why the sun sets so early in the northern hemisphere at this point on the Earth's odyssey around the sun. Then I think about the sun setting at all. I think about how on some nights I actually watch the Earth rotate so fast that I actually see the sun disappear underneath the horizon right before my eyes. At this point I usually close my eyes and try to just breathe for a few seconds, thinking about nothing at all.

By the time I open my eyes it's darker than it was before. The Earth has rotated even further on its axis paying no mind to me as it spins, as far as I can tell. I think about how important I feel as one of more than 107 billion people that have ever lived. I think about how I can't really conceptualize 107 billion of anything, or really 107 of anything if I'm being honest. I think about how all of those people, all of us, have at one point felt like the most important person in the world. By now I can usually see some stars in in the sky and I feel less sad. Then I think about how most of the more than 107 billion people didn't even really know what they were looking at when they looked at the sun and the stars. I think about how I honestly don't know either. I think about all of the things I don't know and the things I've never seen and I realize I don't know a lot. I think about how I'm not sure I really know anything at all.

I think about how good my brain actually is at thinking or seeing or smelling. I think about all of the things around me that I can't see. I think about the air moving in and out of my lungs, some of it coming in as oxygen and leaving as carbon dioxide. I think about reality. I think about people that hallucinate and if they're really seeing something that isn't there. I think about why people are so sure they aren't hallucinating. I think that the only reason people don't think they're hallucinating is because enough people agreed with what they saw. I think that I'm not sure if anyone has ever actually hallucinated. I think that maybe everything every person has seen was just what their brain was capable of seeing. I think that the reason my brain doesn't see the wind as it blows in my face is because my brain doesn't think that it is particularly important to see. I think about what my brain deems important enough to perceive.

I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose. I exhale through my mouth. I do this for awhile and eventually open my eyes, looking at my clock. It's two in the morning now. I pause and breathe again, looking out my window at the stars. I think about all of the beautiful things my brain has been able to perceive. I think I should probably get some sleep, my brain needs it. I think about waking up tomorrow and probably having these same thoughts. I hope that I'm not thinking for nothing, or about nothing. I hope I fall asleep quickly so I can see the sun again.