the end

The question is not when the end will come and what will happen. We all know what the end means. The question is how many of us feel sorrow for it. That we let it go in its entirety. That no-one will ever see it again as it is. Not for millenia. Or millions of years. Or ever again.

Though I'm a funny person, I've been often asked why do I always look so sad. And I was surprised when I heard that question for the first few times. But then I realized that I'd probably understoood it as a mere child, by looking at the world as it is. That is, as we make it.

The end is here. It's been here ever since the beginning. The real question is if it is worth to destroy it. Destroy each other. With our arrogance and selfishness that we let infiltrate our every act and thought. Instead we could give up useless things, and take care of each other, of this world.

Now I know it was not my own death I couldn't comprehend when it first came to me. But no longer being part of all this. So I hope ever since I'm not the only one who feels it's worth to make it worth. It's only up to us. Every word, each and every minute of it.