From that crowded bright burning womb, I am born. I am fast. I am insanely fast. Time flies beside me, but I do not care. I have no care. I am free and I am bound. I am just me. I am a particle.

I get propelled to the end of the universe, which is also its centre. It is not very big yet. One day, it will be. One day, it will be so big that bigness will have lost its meaning. For now, my brethren huddle together and into small mounds. Or they smash into each other, fighting great wars that last only an instant and end in a flash.

Me, I zig and I zag, and I zap and I zoom for hundreds of thousands of your years. That's right. I am an infant, as is the universe, and I do naught but stroll for the time it would take thousands and thousands of your kind to live and die. And I do not care, for I have no care. I am free and I am bound.

Something pushes and everything pushes, and slowly, very slowly, our hot dense everything cools slightly. I see my brethren gather, brought together by some sort of attraction. I will be trapped too, or maybe I will not. I do not care. As my brethren gather, they curve the everything itself, entrapping more and more of each other. They aggregate and form massive structures, cathedrals of energy. I fall into one. A hot bright shiny one. We are tightly packed. But it is nothing compared to before our birth. We can still get away. And get away we shall. Slowly. It might take aeons, but get away we shall.

For millions of years, I zig and zag in a searing dense soup. I am nervous, I am agitated. I try to leave, but the way is blocked by my brethren. Trapped in a labyrinth of my own, I bide my time. I zig and I zag in the heart of a furnace, in the heart of light itself, while entire worlds are born and die. One day I escape, and nothing is the same. I zoom past my blazing prison, I zoom into the dark. This is new, the dark. And I zoom into the cold. This is new too. I can see my brethren blinking far away. Calling for me, maybe. I go to them. Or I try to, but the everything stretches hastily between us. It tells me I will never reach them. Never again. I have no choice but to go straight ahead. I am free, but I am bound.

And I zoom past fiery furnaces, and I zoom past the worlds around them, and I zoom past the splendid sparkling spirals, and it may seem like an eternity to short-lived you, but to me they are mere instants, for I am fast, insanely fast. And the everything keeps pushing everything away, and soon the sparkling spirals become islands, and the fiery furnaces are not so fiery, and red becomes the everything.

The fiery furnaces die. Some explode and send my brethren flying off into the empty everything, some sigh and wither away. All die. Even the small red ones. Even the small brown ones.

As I look around, only the heavy vortexes remain. Only they keep sending my brethren off into the cold, dark everything. But the everything has become so vast that we will never meet one another again. Never again. Because now is for the great dying. And it will last much longer than all your lives combined, and much longer than all your thoughts can imagine. But to me they are mere instants, for I am fast, insanely fast.

I feel more sluggish though, in this cold, cold empty stretchy void. I am just as agile as I ever was, but everything rushes so fast past me that I start believing I have become slow. But I am not slow. The everything is just too fast. It is running to its death. Maybe it wants to die. I do not care, for I have no care. The heavy vortexes start dying too. The heavy vortexes are dead. And I feel myself dissipate. And I stop being fast.