Lost in the Void

The monologue of a confined being

Ralph Schilden
Lit Up
3 min readMay 4, 2018

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Photo by Chieh-Yu Liu

Where am I? I have been here for a millisecond, and it feels like forever to me.

It is all white and blank. Is this what most people see when they are born in this world? A world that is so pure and speckless. A world no word could afford to describe because of its completeness…and featureless.

It is borderless. I reach out my hands, hoping I grab something; I kick with my feet to find a ground to stand or run; I squirm my body, trying to move forward or backward. However, none of these work.

It is silence everywhere. I whisper, I speak, and I yell, making every attempt to get noticed by someone or something in this space. I don’t feel my throat hurting or jaws stiffening. All I want is to be heard.

And I hear it. Like an echo in the valley, looming toward me. I almost burst into tears.

Wait…

Is it a response or just the rebound? It becomes so loud that I thought it has pierced my eardrums because it suddenly muffles. Like in a bell jar gradually becoming vacuum, my voice sounds trapped and blurry and disappears before I know it.

I’m tired. Perhaps I should wait for someone to pull me out of here. Maybe there is someone watching me now outside this space. I probably looked pretty ridiculous just then, waving my arms and swinging my legs, not realizing there is nothing I can do. How stupid do I look?

Is this how it feels to be a ‘dot’ on a paper? A drawer drew it and then left. I am the ‘dot’ that stuck in one dimension. No up or down, nor left or right. Just a ‘dot’.

The surroundings are irrelevant to my existence. I am meaningless to them, and so are they unless I can imagine what a two- or three-dimension world looks like. But I can’t. How could I? I don’t even know if I am standing down or sitting up at this moment.

Then what am I?

If I were nothing but a frantic voice soliloquizing, how could I question my presence? But if I hadn’t struggled to prove my existence, I wouldn’t have realized I am a functional mind, one that thinks, questions, and feels anxious. Yes, I am a mind for something.

Think.

What do I sound like? A murmuring worm? A howling wolf? Or, an eloquent woman? What do I act like? A swaying maple? A dancing monkey? Or, an ambitious man? Unfortunately, I am neither.

Tell me, God, why do you create me in the first place? Are you testing my resolution to complete my bestowed mission in this world? Do you throw me into despair to challenge my loyalty to you? Have you been watching my crying for truth and seeking relief as a ritual of worshiping you? Is my existence your amusement?

No, you have mistaken.

What if I have seen through your mighty plan? Do you pretend to be naive that I would still condescend to play your game? Are you not afraid I have transcended your knowledge such that you become the ‘dot’ and I the drawer? Do you not know I have given myself a name?

I am Singularity.

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Ralph Schilden
Lit Up
Writer for

Writer of science fiction and fantasy, thinker, traveler, musician, and data scientist. I die with a story but arise from another.