As far as my mind can remember, life began with me waking up next to the woman who is my wife today. I looked around, and saw the pictures of us together, some with the children and some without.
Life was a mystery at that time, and in many ways still is. Some days are more easy then others, but most days are the same.
There is not regret for what has happened, only a slight confusion and an unspoken mystery throughout the house. We have, basically, fallen into our individual roles as members of the house hold. We have learned to love each other, and take things for how they are.
I work in an office, as many men do, in my neighborhood. I come to work as I please, in return I am given food, clothing, shelter and means of entertainment. Trade is everything, and that is how a man provides for his family in this day.
My wife does not work, she cooks, and does other stereotypical wife duties. Our twin boys, are educated in how to work in administration, to be like their fathers.
The world as I know it has an ending and a beginning. The beginning of the world is in the center, and the end of the world looks like more but is nothing but the end. The end of the world is a solid wall, made of titanium, or possibly another metal, that looks like the rest of the world. It is very easy to bump into it while walking.
The mystery is that nobody asks about the end of the world, we all know it exist, but never talk about it.
Everyone in this world has a role, and they live by that role without asking questions. Children are children forever, and no man knows the definition of words like age, and time, but yet I know I am not the only one that knows of those words.
I go to sleep when the sun is bright, and sleep when the sun is bright. It is always warm, and nature is rather repetitive.
What I see today I have seen yesterday, because yesterday is today. Everyday is the day that it is. The shadows in nature are always pointed north east. Everyday is new, but yet the exact same as the day before.
The only memories I have are of the same thing, and I do not know how long I have been doing it for.
I have pictures of my wife, and children around my house, and office, but I do not remember taking them. I don’t remember ever meeting my wife, or having children, or even applying for the job in which I work at.
When I think about it, I don’t remember anything before that day, and possibly after. If everyday I do the same thing, who is to say that the day is different. I sleep when I sleep, and go to work when I wake up. If I do not go to work that day, I will go back eventually.
When I return to work it is as if nobody noticed that I was away. I equate time to how many times I went to sleep and woke up before I went back to work, 8. Sometimes the number is more, but I usually just go to work when I wake up. That feels right to go to work when I wake up.
Since the world is only a few hundred miles long there are not any vacation sites. Many people watch television. Television is filled with actors and actresses that we have never seen before, or maybe they are other humans, from a different world. It is possible that in their world, they watch us on television.
Supplies like food and clothing are made outside the world and appear in the homes of the people by means of magic. There is no better explanation as to how supplies get to the people.
Everything that is here was here when time began. These things stand as they do day by day, as they did the day before. No man or woman here has made anything, nor do they have anything to do with the preservation of these monuments they call their world.
At one time, we have all traveled the entire world. On that road, rather alone or with a companion, we all have wondered is there a greater world.
It is difficult, if not impossible to find the truth from any written text. The books in the libraries are all by the same arthour, who has no name. It is hard to tell if this author writes the world’s true history, or fiction given to us to keep man confused. The only difference from one text to another is what lies inside these books, things that can not be proven.
The mystery of how we got here, or who we are will remain. When I woke up that day, I did not know my name but my wife did. As did I know her name, and the names of our children. They knew us as Mom and Dad, as they still do.
I have pictures, and videos of me with friends I do not remember. The world seamed so vast at that time, according to what I’m looking at. The places in the pictures are in my dreams, but are not in my world. I have to wonder the connection.
The way things are set up, devised, are all part of the greater mystery. This is why nobody talks about it, because of the fear of there being someone, or something controlling everything from above, or below. To wake up in a life that is placed, with no memory of a past, in a world where you can not tell fact from fiction, as everyone in this world did.
That is what I remember and call my life. I dream of places that exist only in pictures and video, with no idea if these places even exist. I read books that can not tell me fact or fiction, only stories that add to the mystery. Not a word of this is spoken from one man to another ever.
Even with my wife this is not spoken of. Is there another world outside this world? Is this only a microcosm of a greater world in which we are all captives of?
What is true love when me and my wife are happy together? If our children are happy and well fed. Is reality only based on conception? If I believe something, I make it real, but is it only real in my mind? Is that thing even real in my mind?
Different television shows all based on the same thing, the lives of others. Who is to say these are real people, or episodes of television shows of the past played before us. With nobody to tell us what is real we can only assume what we believe to be reality as that, and discard the rest as fiction.
The greatest minds in this world today have the same methods of living, and can prove no solid idea, based on a possible past or present, as fact.
There is one solid fact; Eventually, one person will disappear forever. When a person is missing, they are never discovered, and eventually forgotten about. The only memory that people in the world have is that there was someone who no longer is, but will have no idea or concern on who that person is.
It is extremely rare that someone disappears, but it still happens. In a world where everything is the same, any small change is noticeable. When a person is gone, the world automatically re-adjusts to life as how it is without that person as if they (almost) never existed. Nobody is told what to do, and no questions are asked, the world (and the people in it) makes the proper adjustments to keep things in their normal day by day process.
People remember the number of people that disappeared but not the individuals.
Every day is every day, and even when things change, the world remains the same. What is done today will be done tomorrow, and the world will re-adjust to the one they lose, when that time happens. Fact and fiction will remain a mystery, and the past will remain a blur.
The world as we know it will always be the world as we know it. Tomorrow will be today, until that day we are chosen to leave this world. We live without regret, or spoken desire. In a world of peace, where no one goes without their daily needs. All give to the greater cause willingly, and questions are never answered. Nobody knows what they do not want to know. Nobody has the answers for the few who desire greater knowledge. What one man knows, almost all men in this world know. Life is not a mystery and yet it is.
