You've gained immortality, the only being in existence to do so. You watch kingdoms, nations, entire civilisations fall and become dust over and over. You've watched the continents shift and mountains be flattened by the endless march of time, the only constant, you watching. Relationships with others mean nothing; like a human becoming friends with a mayfly, their lifetimes are so infinitesimal in comparison to your own. Lifetimes pass you by in a blink; the longer you live, the faster time seems to move, the sun and the stars appear simultaneous, the turning of the earth now a constant dizzying spin. Soon the earth falls away around you, engulfed by the magnitude from the expanding sun. You simply stand, basking in the intense glow, the all-consuming heat, the great mother in the sky from which your species crawled out of the slime to see. In what feels like an instant, the light is gone, the great eternal light that lay in the sky all of your life, gone, dust just as everyone you left behind. Time, like you, continues onward. New stars form before your eyes; new planets and solar systems spawn from the ashes of what once was. Then, like all things, they become dust once more. The cycle repeats over and over, your perception speeding. You feel it grow colder, even colder than the coldness of the vacuum you hang in. The universe continues to grow, to age, to decay. Stars spawn slower and slower; solar systems grow more and more sparse; galaxies start to disintegrate before your eyes. You feel the atoms of your body slipping, the emptiness and the endless march forward dragging upon them; you feel yourself being pulled apart by entropy's guiding hand. Slowly, as the universe's light grows too distant to even be called an ember, so does your body, its atoms splitting, its quarks scattering to the cosmic void, and yet you persist, your consciousness hanging, splayed across the dimming stars until you blink. Everything feels warm and tingly, the hottest heat you have ever felt, a burning embrace breaking the mind-numbing cold. You expand, stars exploding in what you once thought was your chest, energy bouncing around your form, pure and untethered. In a solitary cosmic blink, your body reforms not as it once was but built of the vastness of the cosmos, cells of stars and nebulae at your core. You cling with great strength to hold yourself together, pulling even the very light that adorns you now into itself. You can feel yourself growing apart. You feel the cold nipping at your celestial hands, so you grasp at everything you are, every star, every planet, every speck of space dust. You keep holding. and holding, but you find yourself hanging in the emptiness once more, then the heat, then the cold. a maddening dance of birth, death, and rebirth, all while you watch as it continues accelerating. This is the nature of eternity. Time never stops progressing. Space never stops moving; the only constant is you and your eternal suffering and your stagnancy. You are the universe, and you must either suffer or accept the endless ebb and flow of existence.
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