I am an idealist and a dreamer. I always see the way things could be and should be and then plot ways to make it a reality. Usually this involves convincing people that they are wrong and that I’m right. I cannot even begin to count the number of hours I’ve spent alone debating the caricature of someone I know that I have created in my head. If only they knew this one fact then they would see my side. If only they realized this one truth it would change their life.

I want this world to be better. I want people to stop being in pain. I find myself thinking quite often that if we just changed the systems of this world, things would improve. Society would finally move beyond oppression and violence and become one that cares for each other and seeks the good of all. Wars could end. Hunger could end. I just have to convince more people.

My head bangs against a wall as I agonize over the perfect words. I scour book after book looking for the right solution and then spend months preparing my case for it. Papers get thrown out, ideas get scrapped, and I lose hours of precious sleep as I play scenarios in my head while staring at my darkened ceiling. Why do I care so much?

No matter how great of an argument I make, someone will always refute my logic. No amount of words will ever convince someone who has already made up their mind. A person’s experience will always win out in the end, despite much evidence that can contradict it. We can spin facts any way we want in order to fit our agenda. I know this because I do it all the time.

Even if those changes were implemented, we would find some way to corrupt the new system. That’s just what humans do. We create faulty structures and use them to further our own agenda and crush others. No amount of systemic change will ever make the world as great as we want it to be. There will always be dissenting opinions breaking through our beautiful glass house.

We are made of ashes. Our words pass away like a gust of wind. Our systems decay and eventually die off, never to be seen again. Our arguments are mere seconds in the timelessness of existence. Our fights are meaningless and our disagreements are petty. We all return to the same dust we were formed from.

For the first time in a few months, I can smile and relax. I do not need the perfect solution. A flawless argument has never been discovered. These words will be forgotten in a day. Everything is ashes.

And that is very good thing indeed.