What am I doing here?

What am I doing here? I’ve recently been pondering this exact question. And while I don’t intend to answer the question in such a quick blog (as doing so would probably require a treatise), I did realize that the question makes no sense. Or rather, it makes way too much sense. And it does so in very different ways, and probably means a different thing to different people.

What am I doing here? Literally. Well, I am sitting down at my computer, writing a blog post (which I haven’t done in ages). At the same time, I’m pondering about the problems that I’m going to include on my training for OMI, on segment trees. I’m looking at the book beside me, Nueva historia mínima de México, and I’m also remembering the podcasts with Javier Garciadiego that I’ve been listening to. At a more abstract level, I’m getting ready to start classes tomorrow, and I’ve been trying to severely restrict my screen time on Netflix and YouTube (after listening to Anna Lembke1 on Emma Chamberlain’s podcast). I should be working on some money and personal finance related things (like taxes).

What am I doing here? The emphasis here is on me. Why am I here, and not, say, any of my family members. For one it’s a matter of logistics, my brother is 16 (so not in college yet), and my parents are way past their college years, they have their life set up in Torreón. On the other hand, there might be a more fundamental reason why I’m here: because MIT has been my dream university for the last 7 years, because the things I’m learning are much more valuable to me than they are to anyone else, because it’s a fixed point in time in the Doctor Who universe. Or of course, there might be a much less fundamental reason: because I lucked out, because my profile reminded my college admissions officer of a friend of them, or simply because of no reason at all, determinism or complete randomness in the universe.

What am I doing here? What do I mean, here? Is it here at the Starbucks where I’m writing this? Well, I’m here because my friend just gifted me a Starbucks cup for Christmas and I’ve been pretty excited to use it recently. Is it here, at MIT? Is it here, in the US? In the universe? Each of these questions merit an entirely different discussion. I could rehash the Medium article about how Starbucks operates as a bank, or a review on the reasons why I like Starbucks over Vester (even though they’re right beside each other, and if I went for the coffee shop experience, it’d be a much more even 50-50 split). I could write about the advantages and community I’ve built at MIT that I don’t think would have been possible anywhere else, and why I like my university, despite it’s (pretty awful) downsides at times. Or I could write a much more historical view on how, even though the US has only been a country for 34 more years than Mexico, it’s opportunities and place in the world are nowhere near my own country’s, despite being neighbors and Mexico being (objectively) richer in resources (it is, after all, the Gulf of Mexico) and strategical location (you could feasibly transport things from the Atlantic to the Pacific during La Colonia, and Nueva España became one of the biggest maritime commercial locations of that time). Or I could write a much more philosophical approach as to why I think I’m here, and what my place is on this Earth, and on the universe as a whole, at this specific point in time. I could go into Nietzsche’s view on nihilism, contrast it (compare it?) to the Cyrenaics’ hedonism.

My point is, I think, that I realized that the question I was asking is very ill-defined. There are so many variables, so many different perspectives, so many definitions. But at the same time, I realized that it’s quite beautiful, in a way. There are so many different interpretations, and my main idea was to help me get some clarity on myself. I don’t need to choose one and stick to it, it’s not an academic essay. And that’s something I find quite beautiful about writing things that are only meant for me. As long as I’m aware of this context, I don’t need to remind myself every time. There is a lot of room to be lenient about what you choose to write about, at the end of the day, it’s your writing. Who cares about well-defined conventions, especially in the 21st century.

UPD 24-02-27: I’ve briefly talked about this question with some of my friends, and all seem to follow-up with one of “what do you mean, here?” or “like, literally?”. Almost nobody has pondered the I part of the question, which I thought was interesting enough to add to the blogpost.


  1. 1.both Javier Garciadiego and Anna Lembke have a doctorate degree in their respective fields (Ph.D. and M.D., respectively). I just don’t like calling people by their title, seems kind of reductive I don’t know.