In the beginning,

there was nothing.

Then,

something happened

to that nothing.

Everything was made

from the nothing.

That’s what I’ve been told.

I think about it

a lot.

There’s lots of versions

of that story,

some are conflicting.

It’s an odd story.

I believed

for a long time

that

somebody turned nothing

into everything.

For a while,

I never questioned it.

Then I learned

a little bit,

and I had a question.

So I asked,

“How did the somebody

get there?”

I was given

a lot

of answers

to that question.

Maybe it was

rude,

but I really

only paid

much attention

to one of

those answers.

“That’s a good question,”

I was told.

“You’ll have to find that out for yourself.”

So I did.

At least,

I tried.

Like I said,

it’s an odd story.

I learned

a lot.

I read books.

I listened.

I questioned.

I talked.

I observed.

I inferred.

Because of that,

I found something

curious.

By learning

a lot,

I learned

there’s a lot

I don’t know.

Sure,

there’s lots

of people

that know more

than me.

But,

to tell you

my opinion,

I don’t think

anybody

really knows

what happened

in the beginning.

Maybe

we were created.

Maybe

something exploded.

Maybe

something went wrong.

Maybe

everything

always existed

in some form,

and there was

no beginning.

So I came

to a conclusion:

I’ll don’t think

I’ll ever know

what happened

in the beginning

(if there was one).

So instead of

worrying

about it,

I’ll just be happy

I exist.