Birth and why you dont remember it.

you'd never do it again if you did.

It begins with the pain, preceded by what seemed like an eternity, I can’t say if it was like this my first time, but every time since it’s exactly the same. The squeezing, the pressure, a pounding headache. Then the squeezing again, it’s not light but lit, and then it gets dark. So dark that the last time you blinked feels like never ago. Then the Final squeeze and that light so intense and warm, yet the air, the space, the everything, so cold. Every sensor fires, everything wakes up and the pain of life manifest in a most primal rage. I cry out, and I’m relentless. Soon I’m elevated into open space by my feet and neck. Wrapped in a sensor abating cloth and relieved of the overload of input just previously thrust upon me. Then it happens, the realization, it’s worked we’ve done it again. The memories return, my self-jumps back to being as such and there I lay the best hope for humanity Born again, in a different time, helpless to effect change for a decade at least all the while carrying the hopes of the universes’ future. Altering the past of humanity waiting for probability and averages, to finally give the result they crave for. The thing everything in existence craves for, to have your existence be acknowledged and therefore justified. This is the 34th time I’ve been born and  I hope they have toilets in this time and if not, I better be a male.

I think it’s time to start, at the beginning. My beginning, not yours. My time, not yours. They say start with the end in mind. How true that is because we’re at THE END so now we must start in the mind.