In the beginning, there was Nothing.

Not light, nor dark.

Not time, nor space.

Just the pitch black void, empty yet all-encompassing.

But of course, this was not the 'the beginning', merely a 'the beginning'. The universe had, of course, already been born.

After all, a few minutes ago I was diving by the coast of Sydney.

I opened my eyes to the sight of eternity, the emptiness of the void encompassing my body in its claustrophobic, suffocating embrace.

It wasn't dark, per se, nor cold; it was total sensory deprivation, with nothing to see, hear, or feel.

It was, in a way, a form of Living Death. I was conscious, but there was nothing to process.

It was Terrifying at first, and was for quite some time after; I don't know exactly how long, of course, because there was nothing to mark the passage of time.

But as I drifted in the lukewarm sea of silence, I saw a flicker. I heard a strike. And another, another, and another, another.

Until it all rushed forth at once, and I saw everything, in the most literal sense.

I saw a Universe, from the outside. I saw a thousand brilliant colours, and knew ten thousand more were still unseen. I heard the ticking of time, and I heard my blood rushing past my ears.

I heard colours. Saw sounds. Anything and Everything, distilled into a blur of Sensory Overload; and I saw them rapidly approaching, like I saw the sea rise to meet me when I dived off a boat.

And in an instant, like that very sea, it consumed me.

And as my body fell sharply from the heavens, my mind drifted slowly to sleep.