Minute One:
I am conscious. Am I conscious? Surely I am not, but if that is true, then how am I telling this story? Is this story true? If not, does it ring true? I do not know. I am only a ray of light from a star, hurtling towards a planet with no biology or a soul. Therefore, I am not conscious, even though I am unique amongst all light rays.
Does my existence hold meaning in the universe? No. I am an inconsequential wave of energy, and one of a vast infinity as well. Maybe I am different. But I do not experience life. Do living things experience life? But if there is a possibility I experience life, do I have consequence?
Either way, I have a limited amount of time. I am hurtling towards some kind of spheroid which is ninety two million miles away. This means I only have eight minutes and twenty seconds until I cease to be. How will the passage of this time feel? Will I feel it at all? Is everything happening all at once right now, and I am choosing to remain in this moment? It does not matter. Regardless of why, I am here, and I only know that I have eight minutes and twenty seconds until I cease to be. All I can do is think about my state of being.

Minute Two:
I wish to understand death. Is It the end of my existence? Or is it a metamorphosis? When I dissipate upon reaching my destination, I believe I will experience it. Will I simply change into something else? Either way, I will cease to be me, and that is a death all its’ own.
I am curious about the experience. Will it be uncomfortable? Is it a transcendence to a new experience? Physically, when my short journey ends, I may continue in my composite parts, but will I still think? Maybe I will not die, but, rather, stop existing. Only living things die.

Minute Three:
I am further from the place of my genesis now, and I have no control of the fate that lies ahead. I have no understanding of what lies before me, due to my lack of sensory organs. I have nothing else to do but ponder this, as I have no way to communicate or to tell if anything else is near me at all. I am losing myself now, if such a thing can apply. What would be so quick and easy to pass for something else feels like years for me.
I have no senses, but it almost hurts. The pain of ignorance is one of true sorrow, like a knife in the side of what could be called a soul. Since my creation, I have concluded a number of things. For example, I believe I exist. I also believe I am unique, as the only light ray which can question its’ own existence. But all of these things are just that: beliefs. I desire certainty. More than that, I crave truth. I want to understand.

Minute Five:
Eternity is a long wait. But I am not eternal, and this, like all things will end abruptly and meaninglessly. I am fairly certain I am alive, but does this existence have purpose? I still have no idea. But I must be faster with my thoughts… I am near the end. I only have a limited time left. But I know it will feel like a billion years regardless. I am no longer the naive beam of light I began as, although I still have much of the same questions.

Minute Seven:
I must hurry. Though I have but the blink of an eye to exist, I must answer my questions. Am I alone? Most likely. Am I alive? Once again, most likely. Do I have meaning? I am unsure. But it doesn’t matter. Life is simply a natural occurrence, and is nothing special. Or is it? Maybe it is. Maybe life is unique in its’ lack of certainty and that any who experience it feel a mixture of triumph and suffering. One seems unable to be present without the other.

Minute Eight, Second Nineteen:
No matter what I say, I must remember one thing:

My existence is important, like everything in this great universe

And it’s time to die.