Ad Infinitum

Photo by Dino Reichmuth on Unsplash

I am scared of infinity.

The idea that things, or something, anything can go on forever

Numbers have no end

This world doesn’t stop

The universe continues

My life means nothing in the span of time

Yet does anything if we are all equal in time?

Stuck in a circle, square, box, forced in

You will never break out until

Something else happens

It’s scary. I don’t know.

It’s. Unusual.

Who thought of this?

I’m stuck and I can’t break free.

I think I’ll suffocate here

I might die

No,

I Will.

And then what?

? Infinity.

It doesn’t end.

A cycle.

It just goes on forever.

I can’t quantify forever.

It’s too much.

I can’t grasp it.

It won’t touch me.

I can’t touch it.

I can’t quantify forever.

Stop telling me forever is something.

I can’t see it.

I can’t feel it.

It means nothing.

Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing.

Stop.

Forever is the scariest thing.


My biggest fear, besides the tangible, is infinity. Rather, the concept of it, to be more specific. I hate it so much. No, hate isn’t strong enough. I loathe infinity, I have searing anger towards it, I possess pure ire and rage. It makes me feel things I’ve never felt. And no, not in a good way. Why, you ask? What’s so wrong with infinity? We use it in math all the time. We use it to “quantify” things we say, like: I’ll love you forever. Eternally. Never-ending.

But when you take a step back, it makes no sense. It’s scary.

What is forever then? I’ll ask the question until I find out. And guess what? I never will.

We use forever as a form of endearment; of value. But infinity is more complicated than that.

Things can be infinitely big and small. Even those relative terms frighten me when I think too hard about them. So you would say, “Stop thinking so hard about them, then. Stop thinking!” But, what good would that do for me? I question these things because it’s important to do so. To think about it. An atom, for example, is miniscule, no? And it can be infinitely divided. To think there are things so small we can’t see, things that are so infinitely tiny, unlike our galaxy, our solar system, the world unknown which we see as so large, as its complete opposite — it’s baffling to say the least.

Perhaps it’s a human inclination to want things to have value and to have a start and finish. We begin our life by birth and end it by death. We assess our lives based upon the things we do, things we see, people we meet, relationships we have, et cetera. All the while, we exist, as one person, yet of nothing in comparison to the smallest atom and the largest planet. This world doesn’t care about us in the long run, you see. We are here for a blip, for a second. Insignificant. Absolutely insignificant. Your biggest problem may mean everything to you in this one moment. But to infinity, to forever? How charming. How funny.

It means nothing. Nothing at all.

Everything you’ve ever lived for, you’ll be forgotten eventually. Even if it takes a million years. And it doesn’t end.

Start and end, such relative, simple ideas. Yet they provide a comfort for us. Think, when you start a book it’s refreshing, it’s new, it’s inviting and exciting. If said book ends on a cliffhanger, it’s extremely unnerving and frightening. A life hangs in the balance. A character’s mental state is waning. You fear for what could happen next. So when it does, when it’s finalized, it’s like a breath of fresh air. Relief washes over you because — it’s over. It’s done. Maybe it isn’t what you thought it would be; perhaps you want it to be different. But it’s over.

Yet the thought that it would never get to that point is the scariest thing I could think of. Even worse? You can never go back to that fresh, new feeling.

The question of, “What happens next?” will never have an answer. All of my questions will never have an answer. When I die, my relevance will dim. Our minds will forget.

But infinity, forever — it doesn’t stop for anyone. Doesn’t even stop for time. Time is just something we made to make us feel more secure, anyway.

It manipulates us; it controls us in ways we aren’t even conscious of; it decides our lives.

I wonder, if after reading this, you consider a thing or two about infinity.

This could have no end.

But where would the fun be in that?

And technically, it doesn’t. You will always be thinking of it, in the back of your mind, unaware, just as you do with everything else in this world.

When you really think about, timeline and all.

Nothing has an answer. Everything is relative.

And infinity controls us all.

I am so scared of infinity. Forever.

I am so scared of forever. Infinitely.

I am so scared.

I am so scared.

And nothing can save me.

Not even forever.

Stop waiting for it to save you.