23,411th In-Line For The Throne

At just a little after one in the morning he stood on the low hill and stared up into the sky, wondering just what the Universe wanted of him.

Then a thought began to creep into his mind. At first, the thought was simply: "What if the Universe doesn't actually want anything of you at all?" Then, a quick few seconds later, it was followed up by the thought: "What if the Universe doesn't actually care about your existence at all?"

This was a little disconcerting.

He pondered. Thoughts rolled around in his head like 144 bowling balls suddenly let loose in a skateboard park. He tried to make sense of it all, but everything was vague, indistinct. Like one of those horrible paintings first-year art students create when they think they're going to be the next Franz Kline (who himself thought he was Rothko).

Somewhere, Nuns were dropping to their knees

Then several moments of clarity hit him like a ton of overweight Southern matrons, first and foremost being: "Fcuk the Universe, it's my life, I'm going to live it." 

That's the exact moment when he realized that living his life to satisfy the hunger of others wasn't going to work.

So he walked home (the hill was not much of a hike), got online and bought a few more shares of a no-load, no-fee mutual from Putnam that he liked.