On the First Man
The following may mean that I have very little of a life to those who read it, but I assure that such things as I am about to speak of are not completely arbitrary and some could learn a good lesson from them.
I was sitting outside just a few moments ago. I had just gotten off of work, and I still smelled of fish and 409. The first thing on my agenda was to sit on the couch for a moment before I realized my two dogs wanted to use the bathroom, so outside I went with them. Still tired, however, I took a seat in a green metal patio chair that was missing a cusion. I sat, leaned back, and ignored the animals completely as I tried to close my eyes and rest.
As I opened them back up again, I noticed it was a densely clouded night, and only after several moments could I see the moon making its way from behind pools of moistened air. In the distance I could see the results of a search light beaming quickly across the face of the blanketed sky, moving definately in a large circle that I could only see a fraction of. To me it moved in a fading straight line. Now that I recall the sight, I am reminded of Albert Einstein and his famous Theories of Relativity.
For a moment I felt a slight sense of claustrophobia, as the clouds were so dense and so tightly back in the air, that I thought I may be stuck, confined the boundaries of the Earth, which, to people like me, is a very, very small place to be confined to. I wondered if, though I could not see them, the stars could still see me. I came to the conclusion that they could.
I wondered of First Man, when he walked the Earth in its primal beginning and knew of nothing he saw. I wondered if he was confused, but I do not think he was. He knew nothing, ignorance in its finest. He didn't know the Earth was the Earth, that it was round or even flat. He knew not what a rock was, or a blade of grass, and certainly could not have known a star or the moon. What a life it must have been, to know so little of all things as to believe the world to be a seemingly endless field of land with spirts of liquid, which he could not have known was water, and to think so little of existence itself?
And yes, this First Man must have thought very little of his own existence. He did not believe that his life had a purpose or a meaning. He did not know were he would go whence he ceased to live, and he knew not where he was before his living had first begun. He could not have cared much, I think. He thought of living only as something which obviously must be done, and this was the only reason he did it. Existence? To the First Man, it must have seemed endless, for eternity was all he could comprehend, for he had never experienced any end whatsoever. Ironic how, in his evolution into what we are now, eternity is the only thing we cannot comprehend, and the end is the most looked forward to thing in existence. Not in a sad way, no, but in hopes that the end will not really be the end, andit is the First Man in us all that says, "Eternity, my Sons, is the only thing that can be real." But we say we have invented happiness, and we blink.
What a pity that it is.
