End Of World @ MindSay

Broken hearts and paradise
Before the ending that
No one seems to know...

I am just in the mood to sit here and wait for the end of the world. There are so many questions that I need to have answered. Will it be a death by natural causes or will it be a result of a self-inflicted wound? And there is always the possibility that it could be a tragic accident that brings about the end of this world. So here I shall sit and await the spectacle as it unfolds before my eyes. And then I will know...

It is a bit ironic that mankind feels that they are survivors on this planet when they have not even put in enough time to be considered such. The history shows that this species has only been walking the land for a brief instance in the four and a half billion year history of this world. And there have been so many survivors whose age was counted in the hundreds of millions of years who are no longer with us - they had a proven track record and yet they are now gone...

What makes these humans so sure that they will be around forever? In this cosmic crap shot, there are so many ways that this planet and all who occupy it can be eliminate - there are so many unknowns, so many forces to deal with. What if the planet takes a direct gamma ray burst? What if a black hole wonders close enough to the planet so that it is sucked into the void? What if mankind's understanding of the sun is grossly inadequate and the sun dies tomorrow? What if a big ole rock from the heavens hits the earth on a fault line and cracks it open like a big ole egg? I'd like my world over easy, thank you much...

And I want to be there when it happens though the chances of being granted my wish are slim at best. Maybe that my death will take me to another plane of existence from which I can watch the end unfold before me. Will there be fireworks or will it just fade away? I want to know...

But then again I want to be there to witness the last star in the universe as it flickers out of existence and the heavens are nothing but black in all directions - nothing for all eternity...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust as he awaits the End of the World...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...

If I was a Horseman of the Apocalypse, I'd be "War," but I'd also be suing for breach of contract right now:

Seven women who had holed up in a cave for months other members of a Russian cult awaiting the end of the world emerged Friday night and were being treated by emergency workers, regional officials said.

More than two dozen others remained behind but were expected to come out as early as Saturday, the governor's office said.

About 35 members of the Christian cult entered the cave near the village of Nikolskoye, 400 miles southeast of Moscow, in early November to await the end of the world, which they expected in May. They threatened to detonate gas canisters if police tried to remove them by force.

Look, if you people can't wait until the Apocalypse is underway, you're too weak and stupid to call yourselves a cult.  Jeebus, the Hail-Bopp r-tards killed themselves.  The Jonestown brats killed people, then killed themselves. 

If you can't even live in a burrow for seven months for THE END OF THE WORLD, you suck.  Seriously, it's not like you're ever going to get the chance to do this over.  Tomorrow, the sun will come up on four unemployed horseman.  In May, the trumpets and bowls will sit undisturbed.  All this just because some little cultish wannabes couldn't stay in their cave through April.  Weak, guys.  Just pathetic...  We don't even get a ritual suicide from these weak people?  So sad.

While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps...

And the storms of November came crashing upon the world around me, and all things that are part of my reality are under siege as I sit here safe and warm looking out on the world that is in the midst of change. It is a glorious day that I see before me as the rains and the wind conspire to strip the leaves from all trees. The end of pleasant weather is nigh and soon we shall be in the grasp of a wintry Hell from which we cannot escape for the Fates have ordained that we shall remain in this land for all times...

The beginning of the end is wondrous in its very nature for it is so much more unpredictable than the beginning or the end. What can I expect as I sit here and watch all that is before me? What will happen next? Will it be a sudden change or will be gradual, savoring each and every second until the end finally steps forward and announces that here it is and here it will remain?

And the world has changed greatly and will continue to change as I sit here thinking it's unusual that an older woman, maybe late 50s or early 60s sits about 10 feet from me listening to her iPod while reading Calvin and Hobbes. And the world has many great mysteries such as this as I sit in this bookstore watching as people make mad dashes from their cars to the doors of the store. And I watch the rain and I am filled with joy and I marvel at it all and in all things. It is amazing that as good as I feel there are many surrounding me who look as if their worlds had come to an end - it is as if I have sucked all the joy from their souls and I have kept it all to my self. Maybe this is so though I shall never know the truth behind this and so many other mysteries that surround me...

And I sit and watch the world that surrounds me after doing all the work that I needed to do for this day. And I sit and watch the man in the three-piece suit who at first I assumed to be closer to my age though I have come to realize that he is of an age far greater than mine. He sits before his laptop and appears to be stumped by what he see before his eyes, then the light bulb is turned on and his fingers begin to work the keyboard, then the light is switched of and he stares blankly as if he had lost the battle, wash, rinse, repeat over and over...

As I sit here watching the rain, it becomes apparent to me that technology has been infiltrating those who are far older than I. It may be possible that I just have not given it much thought or that I have not had so many examples near me to turn on my own personal light bulb. And now the three-piece suit man has closed his laptop and just looks disgusted and such are the ways of technology for as they make life so much simpler, they also have a tendency to make life incredibly difficult of the gods of the computer age do not smile upon thee. And as I sit, another soul is sacrificed upon the alter of the Digital Age and the man is left to drum with his fingers upon the case of his instrument of self-destruction...

The rains have slowed and the winds have died down, and I wonder when I will find the motivation to make another attempt at writing the Great American Novel. I know it will probably never happen for I know myself well though I continue to believe that one day I will go beyond 10 pages and will complete a tale that will be passed down through the ages and will be made into numerous movies and sequels and will have a run on Broadway that will never be eclipsed and will become part of the curriculum of every major university of across this big blue orb. So such is the tale that I weave for my life that I haven't written yet and while it is epic in scope, it will end much as Walt Disney would wish it to...

My brief stop has been productive and I believe that with the lull in the storm that was raging around me, I shall conclude my daily exercise in the written word and I shall go out into the world and see what I can discover about all things...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...

When I ran on a hilltop following a pack of wild geese,
Someday everything is gonna sound like a rhapsody
When I paint my masterpiece...

And what picture shall I paint upon this canvas today? What palette will cover all my thoughts as I pick up a brush and begin to shape the world as I see it? What style will I use to show the world how I see it on this day? What will be the subtle hues that I choose to paint this masterpiece? Should I use large, broad strokes or delicate fine lines to give my impression of all that has been impressed upon me?

There are times such as these when I wonder why I see the world the way I do. Why is it that I can take a random thought and turn it into something that grows slowly, but I know will eventually blossom into something totally unexpected? There are so many things in this life that I will never truly understand and possibly I am so much better for this lack of understanding. I wonder if I ever do achieve some degree of understanding, will this bring an end to everything that can pour forth from my mind because I will be able to artificially manipulate the process. Will I become mechanical in my action and will all who read this realize that fact? Will understanding destroy creativity?

And that is what is on my mind - does knowledge kill creativity? Does complete knowledge of a subject destroy all the wonder and amazement found in something that lacks absolute understanding? If I had all the answer to all the questions, would I stop being me? Would my absolute understanding end all the wonderment that I possess as I sit here adding splashes of color to this previously blank canvas? But even above and beyond all that would impact me personally, would others still stop by if I possessed all the knowledge that I seek?

And I will begin with a sky blue as I gaze off to the heavens, wondering about all that is beyond my comprehension, all that is beyond the realm of a mortal man. Why is it that I have this uncontrollable urge to tell the world everything even if this everything happens to be nothing in particular? What is my ultimate purpose in being? Where will my journey go once my vehicle has been returned to the earth from whence it came?

And to my picture I will add varying shades of green for all the life that I see before. Large strokes of green that fill about half of my masterpiece, greens that are big and bold for al the world to see just as all can see me as I am, naked in this forest, celebrating the fact that I am alive and free in this world. I am here as whom I am and I have nothing to hide from and no one has to fear me being in their presence...

And subtle tones of brown will fill the lower portion of this painting that will remind me of where I can from, where my roots are, and where I will someday return. The earth gives us life and in it we shall live. And buried deep within the land we can dig up all that has come before and we will shine a light about that that has been hidden from us. The past though it is hidden can be unearthed at any time revealing who we really are, who we have become. And the truth is there for all to discover if only they take the time to dig deep enough...

And with delicate, fine strokes I will add small splashes of reds, yellows, purples and these will represent the fruits of my labours for though they may be sparse in number and few and far between, they are there never the less. And I will rejoice in the fruits that I have reaped for they are good, nourishing for the soul. And I take a piece and hand it to all those who wish to enjoy a taste. And though they are few in number, they will still shine brighter than all else in my life and they will be the first thing that many will notice of me and they may be the only thing that some will ever see in me...

And such is the masterpiece that I have painted on this day and that will hang forever in my gallery so that all may gaze upon and wonder at as long as they remain behind that velvet rope that separates me from the rest of the world...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...

Yep, I know that I usually throw some song lyrics in here for thinking of titles is not the easiest thing to do in the world, but I had this title pop into my head whilst I was driving so I shall go with it...

At birth my soul was black, black as the coal that came from the ground in my town, black as the oil that lubricated the machinery for I was born in a northern industrial town. And all I knew and all that were around me work in the industries that kept this country going...

As I grew into a teenager the world changed just as I was changing. The industrial revolution had come to an end. Just as the French Revolution came to a violent bloody close, so did massive steel and brick structures that were once home to industry. It was not a pretty sight, it was not a marvel to behold, it was a cancer that spread throughout the land, an incurable plague that destroyed everything from within. Open sores upon the walls that will never heal, rust - the color of blood - pours from the bowels, the plug has been pulled for there is no saving that which cannot be saved. A prayer has been said over the dying and absolution granted for the sins of the past can never be forgiven by mortal men, it must come from above...

As I reached and am living through my adult years on the slow march to the end, the world that I knew so long ago is walking the same path as I am. We find ourselves being plowed under by the march of history. My body slowly decays as I keep marching on, parts do not work as they once did, pains come from places that I never knew existed, I know relatively speaking that my journey will be over soon and yet I keep marching. My world as I have experienced throughout these many years has suffered the same fate as I though it has done so at an accelerated rate for it is far older than I. Much of what I had known as a child is gone, gone forever. Much of the achievements of my ancestors have been buried deep within the soil never to see the light of day. The rusting hulks of many of its parts sit idle as if they were Twenty-first Century Monoliths and that attract many visitors who gaze upon them and wonder what they were used for, what strange peoples created such large monuments to industry, what strange religions did these people practice? And soon just as I, they will be gone, just a faded memory in the minds of the elderly. Tales of their might will be passed down from generation to generation so that possibly at some far off distant time they will be compiled and written down in some great tome that will survive long after even their memory has faded...

My soul has become the color of rust and there is nothing I can do to stop the decay. Eventually all the strength will be gone from the materials that I have been made from, and I will become a pile of dust upon the ground that the rains will wash away. What remains will be washed into the sea and I will be again reborn to begin this journey anew, but the same fate cannot be said of the world I once knew for when it's gone, it will be gone forever much like the dinosaurs that once roamed this land, they will be know only by the fossils that they have left behind...

And so I sit here and ponder such things while thinking that there is a strange beauty in the browns and reds of these rusting hulks of industry. The brickwork will remain much longer like so many ancient cities that are seen only as walls and floors. Fragments of glass in window frames created intricate patterns that man will never be able to replicate. A stray beam of sunlight sparkles from the shards that once kept the elements from wreaking havoc upon the delicate structures that were held within. And what remains within are mere shadows of what once was for the tomb robbers have long since stripped all the jewels and precious metals from within these ancient burial grounds. Fragments of ancient texts can be seen upon the walls awaiting the day when someone will decipher all that they contain. The fires that once raged deep within the hearths have all grown cold and only ashes remain...

But what of the people, why haven't the skeletons been found? Did some great catastrophe destroy their world and force them to move onto better places? Why are there no bodies? This is a mystery that we may never know the answer to...

And I sit here fearing that I have become a northern industrial town...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...