The Long Slumber

"Once, there were a time when stars drenched the night-sky with a multitude of utter beauty incarnate."

"Once, there were a time when species, of all sorts, populated the majesty of excellent galaxies."

"Once, there were a time of peace, and war; destruction, and development. A time when we could all either mourn, or unite."

"What happened to us?

What of our humanity?

Our excellence in unification?"

Sigh, "We're creatures of sociability; we need one another."

"And never should we be left to the cruelty of abandonment, rejection, or deserted."

My pages shuffle, crinkling to the movements of my hand over them.

"What is to say what is best for us, when we, ourselves, are creatures of subjectivity."

"Creatures who live in their own little reality, until the ultimatum of their moment."

"Why must we feel pain, tragedy, or trauma; to realise. To understand, and witness."

My pen pauses; my moment of hesitation on my thought passes.

"I write as if to say someone, or something, will eventually find it."

"I give myself false hope, in a way of coping."

"For it is only when we are torn apart, when our reality is most real. Surreal."

"Let me tell you a now ancient story."

A page is turned.

"There is a king, and a boy. The king asks the boy a question, "How many seconds are there in an eternity?", and so, the boy asks."

"There is a mountain: This mountain is made of pure diamond."

"An hour to climb, and an hour to go around."

"And every century, a small bird comes to the summit of this solid-diamond mountain, and sharpens its beak against it; then flying off, awaiting the next hundred years."

"And once the mountain is worn and chiselled away after quadrillions of birds, through sectillions of centuries-"

"The first second of eternity, has passed."

My pen hesitates once more.

"And now, I write in this book as a way to control my circumstances; to continue with sanity."

"I desire to be remembered, but now, I see nothingness. And with it; the abyssal pit of absolution."

"Once I awoke; I was left in a fog of confusion. I saw nothing. Simply nothing."

My hand reaches to a select option of buttons ahead of me, on the cockpit of my emergency survival capsule.

"And so, I asked the onboard computer for my location."

My hand presses against a button, causing a digital, ambiguous, human voice to play.

"Epsilon One - two/two/five/slash/four/one - Kepler Nine"

"Yet, I saw no star. No galaxy. No nothing."

"Surely there must be something wrong with the screens…"

My hand reaches for other select buttons, then pressing.

"But once I made sure to check how long my survival capsule had me induced in hypo-inactivity-sleep; I saw what would then destroy me."

"Our capsules come on board with something, informally called, a ghost-pod."

"A powerful cold-fusion reactor, that fuels the hypo-inactivity-sleep instructions; yet, feeds itself."

"Potentially able to stay active, without maintenance, for centuries."

Another button pressed.

"H.I.S active for: 10,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. Years"

My hand twitches; half shaking.

"Or in terms the computer doesn't understand; a googol."

"My capsule must've been damaged, causing the ghost-pod to somehow sustain me far past what it was initially capable of doing."

"And now, I contemplate my life; my species; and everything else; as I watch the beginning of the universe-heat-death."

"The last stars have died, and only blackholes remain to eventually decay through hawking radiation."

I clench my hands into a fist, furiously punching the console.

"I am the last of my species-"

I move to press, once again, a select few buttons; my chair moving back into a more comfortable position for sleep, as an emergency alarm begins.

"I am the last of life itself-"

My capsule justles softly, the console screens of my cockpit flashing red lights, as the computer exclaims a warning: "Warning. Capsule Ejection Overridden."

"And so; I am the very last *thing*, to exist."

Sounds of latches increase; the sound of small amounts of air piercing behind me; presumably from the onboard powerful respirator: No doubt the computer attempting to keep me alive.

"For every word I say, is the very last in this universe-"

The computer continues with its deafening warnings.

"For every thought I have, is the very last in this universe-"

My hand grasps a latch beneath my seat; pulling it as a countdown begins on the screen.

"For every moment alive, is the very last in this universe."

"My name is Lieutenant A-"

Sudden, entire, and complete, silence befalls the capsule as the door is ejected: The collapse in pressure, instantly pulling all out; be it air, components, or a body.

In the absolution of silence, rotating through space, ever-seeing my capsule with its flashing warning lights; the first ten seconds pass.

My sight tunnelling, and lungs depleted: I smile, prepared.

My consciousness slithers away with the totality of deaths-wings at my back.

Now I may rest.


Author's Notes: I just wrote this in a spur of the moment, after lecturing about nothingness, and all sorts of philosophical topics. Not meant to be perfect, or fantastic. Was but capturing my inspiration at the time.