I often dream of the end of the world.
Sometimes it's the whole world as we know it. I lose the people I love,
The conveniences of life, the casual acceptance of existence.
Natural disasters, military armaments, leadership failures - dreams are haunted with such things at the end of the world.
Sometimes it's just my own world that I know. The losses are the same.
The people I love. The convenience of life, the acceptance of my existence.
My mind implodes. I give in to the drop off the edge. I let go.
I've embraced a lifestyle of practicality while seeking a romantic dream. The convoluted and comprehensive ties between the two keep me engaged.
I think I'd rather be a romantic in everything I do, but I suspect I couldn't let go of the tragedy.
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