i was dreaming about the end of the world again.
i was thinking about how cosmic order exists beyond our comprehension. thus, why do we assume the cosmic order will end under our comprehension.
i suspect that the world exists in our senses. thus, every single death is the end of the world because it is the end of the sensation of the world.
i dreamed about a deus ex machina that didn’t save a thing. the god came down from olympus to end the war, and raised his glorious thunderbolts, but they didn’t do a damn thing to end the war we were fighting.
and then, people started dying, all pelmel, and no one was dying when they were supposed to because this was a metaphor for the end of the world.
we live with a billion worlds in our faces, because these worlds are created by the measurement of the bodies that sense the world. we reach out to each other and collectively create our own shared creation of creation. and when we die, it is the end of the world, and it comes like a thief in the night, and the greatest myth of christianity and religion is that everyone’s world will end at exactly the same moment in time.
but i’m in central, and you’re in greenwich mean, and up in space they measure the light and move with einstein’s theory of relativity, and no one experiences the same time.
we live in a hazy window of about ten minutes. there is no true exactitude.
and when the end of the world comes, your eyes will bend shut. your fingers will curl closed. your tongue will twist and wilt. and you will hear nothing. and that will be the end of the world.
it might as well be, for you.
anyway, that’s what i’ve been dreaming about lately. i need to work on a different story for a while, and maybe i won’t have dreams like this.
dark dreams of death and ruin.