I’ve come to the end of time, the end of my dreams. I’m assuming the two are related but it could just be a coincidence. By the end of time I mean this: people say, “Can you believe it’s already (fill in month here)?” and I think, What difference does that make?  or, You were expecting something else?

Now it’s summer and I love it, the long days and the warmth, but it won’t last. Nothing lasts, especially summer. I’ll try to love it as much as I can but my love can’t hold it here with me. In the end, it’ll slip by, like everything.

I’m nowhere and I’m going nowhere. All concepts of goals and destinations are have no reality to them. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to want, nothing to achieve. Everything is temporary and in the end it all crumbles to dust, including myself.

I waited my whole life for a life that had camaraderie and friendship with a partner,  something that seemed as solid as the earth, but that life turned out to be insubstantial.

I don’t want that life again and I don’t want anything else. I don’t want.

There’s a prayer said every Rosh Hashanah, “People come from dust and end in dust”. I’ve already half quoted it above. It’s only now, at this point in my life,  that I really feel how fleeting everything is. I get comfortable with friends or situations and then they’re gone, sooner  than I expected.

The desire to persist after death through our creations, whether our children or our art or our ideas or our work, is the ultimate futility. In the end we are only buying time from our eventual obliteration.

I have no age. I’m am alive until I am not. Being 55 makes it seem like death is more likely than when I was 25, but in reality it’s all random and any day, any minute, any second, can be my last. In light of that, age as a measure of time is inconsequential.

I live now in my last minute, a place with no future. And if there is no future, there is no place for wants or desires. I’m writing this from my house, another culmination of wants and desires, but after just a few years it seems it is not mine to keep. This is what wants achieve; you may as well try to embrace your shadow.

I had a coworker who told me that a few years before she had been hit by a car and sustained head injuries. She said before the incident she had been a very rational, clinical person. She had worked as a forensic detective. Afterward, she said she felt like she was on acid all the time.

This is my acid life. There’s no reality to it. Whatever meaning I have is the meaning I give it. It’s all a projection from my mind. There is an external world but I can’t really know it, I can only know my interpretation and projection of it.

Reporting from the end of time, this is… a little creature.