I have no greater feeling, but to express my life in a mere chapter of history. History, in any case, recalled the long chaptered book of events written up, not only in human words, but scratched out onto the earth itself; no questions asked.
Now and then I come to find myself thinking; does my work matter? Do I matter? Or is it just another life, wasted away into the emptiness of forever; travelling through history, forever.
Another question I commonly ask myself; what is time? Time, is a humans way of expressing an amount spent doing something; waiting, playing, crying, you name it. It is an invention. The universe does not know time. The universe follows its own laws; we only count in less than even a fraction, compared to the ever-growing expansion into the depths of nothing.
Why do I ask you these questions you may be wondering? Well, it is all very simple. I am a person who allows the common human to think; not just a simple math problem, but proposing an idea. A simple idea, to inspire the growing knowledge of what we think we know, what we think we see.
Do we see the same things? The same colors? Or is every individual’s eyes set in its own spectrum, its own train of how it visions the world, separating light into various colors. Maybe, this is what separates us, in our own unique way.
And so on with my rambling, you may be wondering who I am. Well, I am thought. I am my own self, taking the shapes of what I want to be. A dog one day, a bird the next; I am a spiritual—universal—traveller, I study the universe, in my own perspective.
Why do you say life, Mr. no-name? Well I exist, do I not? And never feel the need to call me Mr. It is just another term used in the human vocabulary, to describe a rugged figure that differentiates from a female, or Mrs.

The universe--vast expansion of life; Life—we live it. I feel the need to make this clear; there is never, a true definition to explain the term, life. You say life is the birth of a young child. I say life is the birth of a star. You say life is the growing of a small tree. I say life is the never-ending expansion and contraction of the universe.
I float amongst the stars, visiting the many earths, through the many galaxies. If only you, reader, could view what I have viewed. Experience my Experiences. But, you are limited. I am forever. You can only catch a glimpse, while I receive every detail. Maybe that is your definition of life.

I now feel the need to discuss a more, grim topic. The topic is death. Death, in your vocabulary, describes the ending of life. The universe dies, you die, stars die, and nothing stays. I am forever. I follow the universe through its viscous cycle, through millennia.
Mr. Forever, do you get bored?
My friend that is a very vital question that I will be happy to answer; it is my curse, forever.
Your time seizes, while mine never stops. I tread the universe for answers, you don’t want to die, I couldn’t think of a greater gift; nonexistence. The weak minds of earth, many earths, believe there is an afterlife. But this, sadly, is not true. Not to me. I may never know, tell me how it is if you do happen to find a way. After the life you live. But I have never met another existing being who’s lived, after life. So the term seems quite useless.
Balance, Mr. Eternity?
Balance is the key to keeping the universe sound and breathing. Balance is the ability to equal off sections so the universe continues spinning in a radical helix. Imagine a snake; small, slick, fast, yet vulnerable; but it carries its hidden secrets. Now imagine a falcon; soaring high and majestic, proudly scanning the grounds of your murky earth for a decent bite. It dives and snatches the snake with its unforgivable talons. The snake writhes and bites into the bird’s foot, allowing it to release and hit the ground soundly slithering away.
Why such an odd example, Mr. Nothing.
Both creatures contain its set of abilities, both being able to fend for one another. This pertains to the universe how? Stars die, after giving off life. New stars are born, creating life.

No more questions to be asked, for some are never meant to be answered.