It is a tranquil day, the kind that falls directly into the middle of one’s schedule. And always those days seem to interrupt the flow of normalcy, though placid as they are. It leaves the reminder of what can only be explained as “ the good times.” 

Normally such ideas would flutter by my mind, as butterflies would among the flowers of a vacant field. They would come and go, never remaining to leave a deep enough imprint to excite even the sharpest of memories. My recollection is indeed very far from such memories. Years of drug abuse and social anxiety have left my thoughts as a convoluted labyrinth. Day by day I inch further into the maze until in time I’m sure I will  forget how to talk, to smile, to blink, and eventually how to muster the intellect to breathe. 

My story is not uncommon among the many people whom I share this world with. I believe we all have made some odd choices; that more often than not, end with unforgiving results. Regardless, it is my hope that the future holds some greater fortune for us all. 

I once heard that the universe is an ever expanding phenomena. One that changes so abruptly that no single entity could ever reach it’s end, even in a thousand lifetimes. But I question this fact constantly, because; Who knows really? Anything is possible; and for all we know the edge of our universe is just down the street, or just across the road, or even just out our front door.

I have an odd feeling, the kind of feeling that one doesn’t shake off very easily. It’s a nagging sense that I am teetering on that very edge every time I open my eyes when I awake each morning. And that as I throw my head down to the pillow and ready myself to sleep at night; I am in all actuality being drawn outward, to places no man living or intended to live will ever see. Though, I hope one day I can share a glimpse with those ‘rare’ few who wish to know that fact as I do, to truly know of things unseen.

And though my mind seems to leak memories as a meandering torrent out of the small cove of my mind; I find that much remains lucid in the days that remain. As the clock ticks, and my time upon this world brings me ever closer to that final trip, a quest to the ends of the universe; I wonder out loud to myself, “What is more real?,” the life that I have built here, or the life that I have built there, upon the horizon of existence.