Witnessing the end of the universe isn’t as flashy as it may seem. Instead of grand explosions or cosmic spectacle, it’s more akin to a blink. The demise of existence proved to be the least interesting thing to happen on April 13 in Cleveland Heights, Ohio when I went back in time to right a future wrong before inadvertently destroying the universe with a time paradox.
The absolute best part of this experience was murdering a younger version of myself in cold blood. I was in a bad headspace after I accidentally killed fifteen orphans, and murdering the younger me proved to be a satisfying way to blow off some steam even if the excitement of this moment was short-lived.
Neither murder nor suicide have picked up in mainstream popularity despite being excellent ways to cease the existence of other people or oneself. Murder has failed at mainstream success due to the moral implications, which is understandable. However, a huge sticking point with suicide is the potential for experiencing pain – especially if the method isn’t instantaneous. A slow or botched suicide is a huge determent.
For this reason, I was overjoyed that time travel provided me with a suitable alternative to either act while simultaneously providing me with the best parts of both.
My fears about the pain associated with killing one’s self-proved to be founded. Despite shooting my younger self in the face at pointblank range, he managed to live beyond this initial head wound. His shouts of agony, in fact, almost ruined this part of the experience for me. However, death finally overcame him after a rapid succession of second, third, fourth, and fifth shots, which was immensely enjoyable. I was happy to have not experienced this pain myself (even if it was happening to myself) as it seemed like an unenjoyable thing to feel.
The excellence of seeing my younger self die stood in sharp contrast to the understated brevity of what followed next. Immediately after watching the life drain from my younger self’s eyes, everything went black – a blackness only those who have been locked inside a sensory deprivation prison could fully comprehend. Likewise, all my other senses vanished from me, leaving my floating consciousness to witness the momentary nothingness of a universe that did not exist.
And while this sounds exciting in theory, nonexistence is something else completely in practice. True, the universe only failed to exist for less than a second, but time should not be calculated merely by its tangible metrics. As brief as it was, the nothingness seemed to stretch forever.
The feeling of infinity was far from exciting, and I found myself exceedingly bored. Worse than being painful, it was almost forgettable. It reminded me very much of the first time I raced a marathon. I wasn’t in much pain – I just wanted the whole thing to end. Like racing great distances, the end of the universe writhed with monotony.
Admittedly, nonexistence also had to contend with the high of time travel itself, which I had done earlier in the day. If shooting my younger self to death was the most satisfying part of the day, time travel was the most exhilarating. This was a ride to rival any roller coaster at Cedar Point. I was actually afraid my heart would burst as the wormhole carried me along the rushing time-currents to this point in the past.
When the wormhole dropped me off in 2019, I found I had defecated my pants, and it is a testament to how exciting the ride was that I share that – not as a point of embarrassment but as a point of pride. Rarely is an experience so much fun that it causes me to soil my pants. Conservatively, this is something that only happens to me once every few years, and I am happy to report that time travel via wormhole is definitely a defecating-worthy experience.
For those who live in Northeast Ohio, the wormhole is located deep within the Seneca Caverns in Bellevue. Any locals looking for the ride of their lives should definitely seek out this wormhole, and I would actually recommend this attraction to out of state residents, too. It’s an unforgettable jaunt for sure.
My only warning is that regardless of when one enters the wormhole, the exit is always April 13, 2019. The Seneca Caverns park staff have placed a sign in front of the wormhole that says as such, but the sign is easy to miss. Furthermore, admission into the caverns is $14, and the park does not provide refunds for anyone who decides not to enter the wormhole.
As I referenced earlier, though, the excitement of time travel only proved to dampen the sensations associated with the end of the universe. I do wonder if the end of the universe would have been more exciting if time travel had been less so. I can only speculate, but I believe I would have enjoyed the end of the universe much more if it was the only thing I experienced that day.
I also have some trouble divorcing the feeling of the universe ending from what happened next. As some kind of fail-safe, the universe almost immediately reset itself to the moment before I murdered my younger self. This was a lot like dying in a videogame only to be placed back at a recent checkpoint to try again.
At once, I realized what I had done – this was a classic time paradox situation. By killing my younger self, the older me never existed to go back in time and kill younger me in the first place. Self-evident in this realization was that I would not be able to use time travel to correct my future mishap. All those orphans will have remained dead no matter what.
Unsurprisingly, this was the worst part of this experience. I went back in time with one goal – to unmurder those orphans – and I failed. Not only that, but now I am stuck back in time without the comforts of the future of which I have become accustomed.
Despite the many high points throughout this experience, the end result is ultimately negative. I do not recommend traveling back in time to right any horrible wrongs – as it is, quite frankly, impossible. But everyone should partake in the adventure of traveling back in time and killing one’s own self if they can. That part is a joy beyond joy.