infinity

Can the human mind perceive perpetuity? In concept can it be conceived? Are people the infinite monkeys, tick-taking on our endless keyboards? Surely one mind cannot do it alone. Cannot glance into the expanse and understand unlimited space. One monkey cannot write every sonnet among its chaotic clacking. Cannot perceive the thought of infinity in solitude. So, if .9 repeating equals 1 is one infinity and not the other? 

1, the singular, standing alone, without company. And the singular, is finite. Unable to go on… Is it not inherent of the singular to end? 

A mother can exhale her last breath on her deathbed and her daughter by her side will inhale again. And she will go on breathing. And her daughter will do the same. After a mother comes a son, or a daughter, or an offspring, comes another then again. After 1 comes 2 then 3 or just 9’s forever. 

I alone cannot perceive infinity. I can muster its essence in concept. But it isn’t until I besottedly breath in the breath of my lover in embrace from closeness. It isn’t until our lungs share the same air that I think I can start to understand. I can think back on the time spent with a friend and know they will be a part of me forever, and when there is no me, I will be a part of another. And when death claims those I love, I will understand, undoubtedly, how one can live on within another no matter how far grown apart. 

My body, my heart, is made of the atoms of generations of lovers before me, my existence, the chance of friendly fragments that danced in previous lifetimes. My memories are made of joy and agony that will be felt by another in infinitely different ways. 

Time and time again. 

There are a finite number of atoms on our planet and yet only one arrangement will ever make you. And when you’re done with those atoms I'll breathe them in and remember. When I’m done with mine, I'll give them away. And just as 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 can rearrange to show an infinite expansion of different conclusions, our atoms will rearrange into a new soul. I heard the universe sings. 

I would pray, though I’m not religious, that I can somehow still be with you, beyond my life and beyond yours. That an iota of I and a grain of you would dance together again in infinitely different ways to the music of the heavens. 

Matter cannot be created or destroyed. And yet our universe expands. Grows larger. 

Infinitely. 

Forever. 

Not because new matter is created but because what exists now is drifting apart. Endlessly. 

Is that the hell I've heard spoken of? 

An existence that endlessly expands in an effort to separate me from you, forever? 

How could I ever know? 

I’m just one monkey.

About the Author

Raquel Zuniga is a BFA student with a concentration in ceramics and an interest in all forms of art.