Somewhere, Not Here

I suppose that most of my outlook on life is very different than a lot of people I know. It would account for a lot of the differences in opinions and desires which I have experienced throughout my two and a third decades of being. I started out much the same way as many other people; wanting to see, wanting to feel, wanting to move about through the width and the vastness of the world. The cities that we live in continue on and on forever like a sea. Even if we live a thousand years we will never see it all.


Our changing existences are like explosions of life from the wombs of our mothers. We feel the comfort of our mothers' bosoms, we develop as the thousands of forces upon us mold and shape our minds and bodies. The more we feel, the more we understand, the more we want to understand, the more ports we open in our minds. We run forward, faster and faster, moving through our lives, our family history, our community, our cultures, the science of our world, the thousands of years of history... and yet, the faster we run, the more we see the faster the world expands away from us. We never see the darkness of night. There is always something to see. Like an explosion moving away from us, sweeping out a wider and wider angle, affecting everything around it as far as we can see.


But I changed, as the world changes. Nothing stays the same. The people I knew still saw the world expand outwards from them. They still see the vastness of the universe. Always something to explore, always something to learn, always somewhere to go, always something to see. So they go, constantly in motion, constantly active, moving about all three dimensions in this world as their minds expand towards the speed of light, illuminating everything as far as their eyes can see. All I see is the long, long timeline stretching away in both directions, so thin and narrow. Unable to move in any direction save forward. I am locked into this steady conveyor belt, unable to run any faster, to stand still, to run backwards. I have nowhere to go, but to continue down this thin thin line of time.