Apr 03, 2008 01:44
It's 3am as I write this here in my room. My cage. My prison. I can't sleep again. A dim desk lamp and the gray blue glow of my monitor cast faint shadows on my walls. There is a street lamp outside my window, but I can't see it. My blinds are shut to keep the street lamp out. It is malicious. It is deviant. The street lamp hates me. All street lamps hate me. I don't know why this is.
The shadows are still. Nothing is moving except my fingers on the keyboard. I sit here at my desk, not in pajamas, but in the same clothes I've worn all day. I used to wear pajamas as a kid. I don't anymore. I don't know why this is. Things change, I guess. I used to care about you. I don't anymore. You said you didn't love me, that you never loved me. That's fine. It happens all the time. You are now a footnote in the story of my life, like so many other people.
Whatever happened to all of those people. Did they find love. Find happiness. Did they live the American dream. Did they succeed in life. Or did they end up just like me. Alone. Awake. In the dark.
Rene Descartes said: "Cogito ergo sum." I think therefore I am. I am. Are you? If you are, do you know that I am. Am I? Aren't I? Was Descartes? Do you know that you can type Descartes with only one hand? Impressive, no?
However, I digress. We are alone and awake and existing within ourselves. It's interesting that we choose to carry on. Why do we do that? Must be genetic.
It's 4 o'clock now. Finally I tire. Good Night. I'll see you in the morning.
-David
*At 5:14:38 am the world ended. With no ozone layer left to absorb cosmic rays, everyone was incinerated from the inside out by a passing, seemingly harmless celestial body. The few scientists who had seen it coming chose to keep it to themselves after determining that there was nothing anybody on earth could do about it. There was no one left to mourn or care. The universe continued.