At the end of all things, there is a voice. It is a small voice, and one would have to strain to hear it, if in fact there were anyone around to hear it at all. This voice, it would sound like my voice. And your voice. And her voice. And his voice. In reality, it is the voice of the universe. It has no need to speak up, for it has had its say, time and time again. It has managed to speak to each of us by its own actions. It pays no heed to our actions, for the life of a hundred generations is merely a flitting of a hummingbird’s wing to the eyes of the universe. But now, it has need to speak, and the words that it whispers into the infinite dark are, “Let’s begin again, shall we?” And thus, we do.
All things have a beginning. And everything that has a beginning, invariably have an ending. Nothing lasts forever, no matter how it feels at the time. All things pass, but that just makes way for new things. In all the infinite times that the universe has remade itself, there has been, and will be, all possibilities. Because the universe has not seen fit to make something possible now, does not mean that it did not fancy that possibility before, nor that it will not enjoy that possibility in the endless future. All things have a beginning, except the great beginning. For a beginning can only happen after an ending, but when did the first beginning happen, if there was nothing before it to end? Please just chalk it up to the whims of the universe, for that is the only true way to understand it and to think too much on the subject would be futile, for there can be no sure answer. The universe does what it shall always do, and to believe yourself to be in control of it would be a great folly, and worthy of a boisterous laugh.
Simply put, “Let’s begin again, shall we?”
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