Existence is Beautiful

This is for all those yet to exist, read on to understand more.

I was alone, darkness surrounded me. I was not standing nor sitting, nor was I laying, but nor was I falling.

And although I felt nothing but the weight of shadow upon my skin, I felt….something there.

“Are you there?” I spoke, or perhaps I didn’t, for I doubt that sound had ever existed here.

There was no cognitive response, but something reacted, I was assailed with emotions unconnected to anything I was feeling at the time, hunger, longing and hope. I was floating through a sea of unspoken dreams, a plethora of beings, each with a shared dream. A dream to be more.

“What is there?” I asked, for I knew were something to respond, it would not be a “who,”

Nothing, came the reply, we are nothing, nobody.

“You believe you are nothing?” I asked

What we believe is immaterial was the response for there is no us to believe, yet.

“Yet? What are you? Who are you” I tried in desperation.

Everything came the reply, we are everything, we are everybody.

I felt angry, they were playing a game at my expense. “Answer me true!” I demanded “are you nothing, or are you everything?”

Yes, came the short reply. I was getting frustrated, there was no answer to any of these questions that helped me, so I changed them.

“Where am I?” I asked, although I already knew what the answer would be.

Nowhere was the answer nowhere and everywhere, that is where you are.

“Does this place have a name?”

Yes.

“What is that name?”

Limbo at last, a response that was not cryptic

“What happens here?” I asked

Everything and nothing, I was annoyed again, but I hesitated.

“What do you mean, Everything?”

Everything, everything that has ever happened has started here! The universe, the billions of galaxies, uncountable stars, googols of planets and googolplexes of individual lives.

“Even me?” I quivered.

Everything

“How? What do you do in this place?”

Nothing, there is nothing to do, but wait and hope

“What do you hope for?”

Existence

“Existence?”

Yes, we hope for existence, we await our time, we have time. Here, that is all we have. Time is our greatest, meanest and only treasure, and treasure it we do.

“What kind of…beings are you?”

We are the unspoken

“You are feared,”

No, there is nothing in us to fear, nor is there anything to be pitied, but pitied by ourselves we are. And envied beyond all else you are.

“I am? For what? What do I have that you desire?” I asked baffled

Existence, you have what we crave, you have asked us who we are, now I ask you, what are we? The answer came to my lips effortlessly, like a half forgotten dream.

“Everything, everything thing that could ever and can ever be.”

Yes, we are all possibilities we are what has never been given a chance, what could have existed if given different circumstances

“How many are you?” The answer took a few seconds

Infinite, we are potential, we shall always be infinite, while there is still existence, forever infinite we shall be. Any number you can think of will be nothing, nothing compared to are true count, our numbers, by far outnumber the amounts of grains of sand in your entire universe

The thought so such a number staggered me. And I had once been here. As had everyone and everything else.

“Why am I here?” I asked

You are here, because you felt the need to be here. Perhaps you have returned to see what you were, and to learn that you have what you once desired beyond all else. Perhaps you are here to remind yourself of what you have. And what we have not.

I then woke and in that moment I knew, I had a gift. Whether given to me by God or Fate or just luck. I had been given life and delivered from Limbo, existence had been handed to me. And until now I did not realize how big a gift that was. But I knew now that this gift came with a price, and the price of existence, was too do more then simply exist. It was to help those that were left behind. It was to give them existence, if only the slightest amount. So I chose to write stories, and dive into Limbo as often as possible. I will pull thoughts from there and grasp potential with both hands. And as my work spreads, I shall be helping them. They need it. The poor things are what they exist for…existence.

Reviews

[Hannah Erickson]

Another great piece love. I've thought about that place often. It seems like the necessary route to take on the journey to enlightenment. :)

[desertraven]

intreging piece! I really liked this. Gets the grey matter working.
Sandra

[Nicole (Carpe Diem)]

great piece... i love the story line and i would agree with Mariposa about the last line -

[OceanTropic]

I LOVED the last line. At first I though the whole story was about a child in a mothers belly, and the child was asking the questions and some unknown "existence" was answering them. Interesting that it was all a dream. I really liked the ending, they exist for existence.