Ode to the Universe
I fill my legs and quote book with quotes and they make me laugh, but still it is the inevitable truth that something is ending. That a Rose by any other name doesn’t always smell as sweet. That however much you reach out someone always run faster than you. That sand is slipping through your fingers.
I dress myself in my longest, brownest cloaks and make woshing sounds. I run like a madman, I fall through glass roofs, I pick up every screwdriver I can get my hands on.
I close my eyes and ruffle up my hair.
I do realize that the time has come. That it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not, five years is only five years. It begins to come clear, even to me, that all things have to end, and when that time comes all your running and hair-ruffling and cloaking have been for nothing.
This is the end, the end of time.
I don’t want to go.
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Do you think I’m taking this a little too seriously?