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I look up to the night sky, standing beside a building nearly forty stories high. My view is guided past the clouds that reflect the artificial light that surrounds my man made world. I feel so small in comparison to this building that was pieced together by hands similar to my own. As I look up I am guided to an open abyss filled with very little blue and very much black. I see the universe, separate from the world in which I stand. I am centred in a room with absolutely no walls. I talk to myself wondering, what the fuck is in this room with me? It's dark. It seems to have no end. It seems like a place that has no occupants. The universe is like an ocean at night, one I am swimming in, and one in which I have no goggles to see passed the darkness. I look down, trapping the universe in my imagination. My eyes watch my slow and steady steps, as I kick rocks to bring myself back down to earth.


I can't though. I can't get that room with no walls out of my mind, even as gravity reminds me that I am still breathing. I walk, and as I do I loose focus. I begin talking to myself. I begin getting excited. What is in this room with me?


Right now I stop. The clouds over head are rushing above and behind me. They blanket me from this seemingly empty and never ending opening. 


The universe escapes my mind. The sky reminds me that I can't fly. This room has so much in it, but it is so vast that at first glance it appears empty like a building with only a frame, no walls, and nothing in it.


I walk through this building as I close my eyes. My soul is heavy as I carry it slowly to a place I now sit.


What is the greatest mystery in life?


It is not the universe, for we see it every night. It is not a dark room, with no walls and endless sight.


Life makes sense if you think about your own. You don't even have to think to breathe, you just have to find your home.


But how will I venture away from this world? I live and will one day die on this big blue and green pearl. 


I can't travel passed the blue blanket sky. I cannot move past the dark clouds floating by.


When will gravity let me go? When will I see the universe and a seemingly endless show?


I write, because I think, and I think because I'm alive. And at this moment I realize the greatest mystery is when we die.


Will I fly passed the sky? Will I search for the light switch that surrounds my comfy seat? Is there such a switch? Is death dark like sleep? I sleep and my world slowly turns dark. The walls in my mind disappear to a distance only found by morning's spark. My mind becomes infinite and empty all at the same time. My universe inside, is lit by dreams that I find.


The excitement of this mystery is destroyed if you rush towards the knife. The greatest mystery is death, something that happens to all life.


I am so scared of death, but now as I write, I have this feeling of excitement. Death is a part of my life, even now as I breathe without even thinking. I know I am alive. I know I will die. It doesn't even fucking matter how or why. But what happens?


What is next? Where do we go? Is there something after this? Is there something more?


Where do I go in this room that reveals no walls? What do I take with me, is there any point to it all? Do I stay close to where I sit, on this earth, on this rock? Or do I move passed the buildings, passed the sky and passed the clouds in which my view is often blocked?


I see the light, even at night. Do I become part of this sight? Does everything go black? Does the light burn out? I know it just might.


Are there walls somewhere out in that endless abyss. Or is there only one life, right here, only this?


As I stop and look up at the endless universe in which I cannot reach, I ask an empty space, what will death teach? 


When I die, is there somewhere to journey and go? It's kind of exciting that in life we never know.


I'm in line for a roller coaster, and even now I am scared. It is a ride in which I think I may never be prepared.


I no longer chase death, though a mystery that big is somewhat intriguing. I wonder when we die if this place, we'll be leaving.


I'm comforted by the fact that this room which I sit seems to never end. I wonder which way death's roller coaster will bend.


We can never know what happens when we die? But as I stop, sit, and think, I know I'll never stop asking why.


I walk back to my car as the night's cold reminds me that I'm alive. I chase comfort in a life that is impossible to deny.


I breathe, my heart beats, I'm awake, I'm alive.


I breathe, my heart beats, I'm awake, I will die.


Excluding everything in-between, that about sums up why.


Why run in a room with no walls to shelter you? I choose to put the knife down, and wait for the cards that will be delt to me.


I sit, I stand, I walk, I run. 


I have no choice but to just let death come.


It is a mystery in life that none can avoid.


I wonder if death is simply a void.


I inhale deeply, feeling life in a form so pure. I know I will die, but what happens, I'm not sure.

The Mystery

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