Maybe when you die it’s like a file being deleted. You don’t cease to exist suddenly, you just disappear from the world to be gradually overwritten by history, swallowed by space. Maybe a ghost is just a deleted file, an empty space-suit roaming around the universe without the dictates of physics.What words of comfort would you lend me if one day, in some corner of the galaxy you encounter my lonely deleted soul floating about somnolently, drifting slowly as a thin and greying cloud, shivering like a thin old man in the wind, and sobbing, sobbing at my monumental loneliness? I hope you will remind me that it will only be a matter of time, yes only a matter of time until the oxygen-free wind of ones and zeros will infiltrate my spacesuit, out here in this infinite tapestry of ones and zeros. And I’ll be drowned out by the noise of galactic explosions, and the blinding colors of supernovas. Overwritten by this holographic universe, gone and forgotten forever.
And with those nostalgic words the final fragrant breath of her life departed from her chest and she was gone from this world, never to be seen or heard from again for all eternity. With time her bones turned to dust and her name and memory were buried alongside all those who knew her.
Long before I met you,
Eternity already finished unfolding like a Persian carpet across the cosmos.
I look upon you for the first time, and simultaneously, dinosaurs roam the earth. I stop to think for a moment how great is my love for you, and you’ve already succumb to the pains of old age. I pen a love note for you, perennially an infant suckling your mother, and eternally dead and gone from this world forever, and forevermore staring at me at this moment. By the time we share our first kiss, the cosmos has already faded away, and any intelligent life form looking out there is concluding that their galaxy is the entire universe. But before they can finish their calculations, their species is long extinct, an ancient artifact of a spiral galaxy. At the same time that I will finish this rendition, a comet will strike the earth destroying all life, and simultaneously will occur the inception of hydrogen atoms. Why will you break my heart? Why did the Big Bang happen?
Darkness, the great ether of despair. How I loath it’s doleful presence in my bedroom, it’s eyes staring down from the ceiling and watching me with sorrowful pity. Whoever could sleep being attended so? Time drags it’s feet on past until at last darkness closes it’s great sad eyes at the hysterical painted-on grin of dawn. Surrendered at last to shut my own.
Welcome to Dimension 3,
Where everyone is a slave to time.
Everyone is walking along a pathway of finite length, with not but a single entry and one exit.
Jagged fragments of dreams litter my foggy pathway
And from time to time the skin of my feet are pierced,
Causing the little girl in me to sit down to cry for a spell,
With her arms wrapped around my knees
The pain of marching across the path of time is often unbearable, but sleep offers a precious recess. Sometimes, enraptured in the land of sleep, I imagine the world to be a friendlier place.
But then I wake up to the same misty pathway, and continue on.
At times when I’ve fallen to my knees upon my way.
In my secret yearnings
I long for the warmth of a tender embrace, a hand to pull me upward,
And perhaps hold mine as I continue down the gloomy shattered path toward deletion.
But then I remember,
I always remember,
That I entered this world alone
And alone I shall exit it.
There was a girl. Relatively attractive. Some said beautiful. From time to time she agreed, but most often saw herself as plain looking. It didn’t matter. Nothing really did. One day, somewhere along her timeline, she realized that time had slipped by. Ever so sneakily, ever so inconspicuously, time had slithered by undetected. No one else seemed to notice it, but things were different now. The children she used to babysit where in college. Her once vibrant relatives were withering away. Her childhood pets were long dead. Where was her horse, Classy? Yes, long dead. What about the land her horses had lived on outside of her house? Yes, covered with wild bushes. What had happened to her best friend with whom she had once played barbies? Yes, married. Why were many of the kids she went to school with so tall? Why did many of them have children? Finished college? She felt she hadn’t even finished highschool yet. Where had the years gone? How had they managed to slip away?
When she was a child the summer holidays had seemed a lifetime. Now a week felt like a day, a week a month. So what if she at last met someone who she loved? How many years until she would bury him? There was no such thing as being together forever. How many years until they would grow fat and ugly?
Would it be only a blink of an eye before she would look back at the selfies she had taken of herself today, with all of the faults she currently saw, and long for this youthful beauty? Time would run away with them. Say that time flew on by and she married this man who she loved. The years would sail on by. They would have a beautiful family and a beautiful pristine house. Years of sunshine and love. But their children would grow up and move out. Eventually they would lose their mobility and their their mental faculties and the beautiful pristine house of that Golden Age would pass to new owners. The end of a saga. The corners where so many resplendent memories took place would grow shadowy, and the memories would dim. And finally, one true love would lose the other and then die alone. Alas, this is all there is to the perfect life.
She never much enjoyed things or looked forward to them, nor dreaded them, for she knew they would pass. Every moment of happiness and love would pass. So too every moment of suffering and heartache. They were all meaningless, ultimately. Each moment was just a grain of sand in an hourglass that was steadily emptying and would be annihilated when it emptied. Killing oneself right away was an option, but playing the game to the end often proved interesting and surprising. That’s how she saw things.
Somehow she always knew that time would steal away her happiness. That knowledge often prevented her from enjoying the time she had had. When her parents bought her a puppy, days later they were shocked to see her crying. When asked why, she replied “this puppy is going to be the greatest friend I will ever have. I will love her more than anything, and then watch her die.” And so it went…
She would often be kept awake at night, choking on tears, shivering in the knowledge of the impending doom and tragedy that time necessitated. Her parents were once roused from their sleep by her sighs and asked why she cried. She told them “because I love you, and I will have to bury you. And then I’ll be all alone. How ever will I bear it?” And what words of comfort could one ever give to such a child who believed neither in spirits nor angels? What a loathsome creature was the god who would create a deadly curse like time. No, God doesn’t give and take, Time does.