Light

Twenty three Minutes

         In twenty three minutes, I will have never said this.  You will have never read this.  Me, you, we never existed.  Memory will be completely wiped clean.  Nothingness has no past. 

Nineteen Minutes

         Do you remember what it was like when they first told everyone?  Chaos.  Everyone was terrified.  And now, as everyone fades to ignorant hope and joy, I’ve become numb to the entire situation.  I’ve come to realize that once it happens, once everything is gone, nothing matters, and nothing ever did. 
         Hundred people inside that building, praying.  Praying that this is not it, that this will not end.  I pity them.  I mean, people are always preparing for something.  And in this sense, nothing can be truly appreciated.  Now, even life, an organism’s entire existence, is just a preparation for something better. 
Nothing is ever good enough.  Nothing is ever as good as we want it to be, as we expect it to be. 

Twelve Minutes

         It’s our nature never to be content.  And once we are faced with finality, we turn to whatever we can to try to elude that fact.  We get to our last poker chips, and go all in desperately trying to win them back.
         But I have come to realize that it's not death that people are truly afraid of; it's the equality that accompanies it.  People spend their lives trying to be better than their neighbor.  But it death, rich and homeless, good and bad, it doesn't matter; it's all the same.  And that is what truly terrifies them.  Mediocrity is worse than death itself . . .

Eight Minutes

         I heard once that all we are is stardust.  All the elements that constitute our body, and our entire planet, are merely stars' debris.  We are part of the sun.  We are its by-products.  Who are we to try to resist its tremendous power?

Three Minutes

         The light swept me off my feet and opened its mouth ready to consume, and I stared right into its magnificent gaze . . . and smiled

Light

~ R.T. Sims