at the end of time, we shall all be mad

i have resigned myself

to the impossibility

of madness

insanity does not hold

its arms out to me

and i am left with nothing

but awareness of self

 

i have craved the beauty

of just being

without worry

without need

without the desire

to fit in

 

i have longed

to reside in the cuckoo's nest

not merely fly over it

but my flight plan

leaves no room

for landing

let alone stopping

 

i have slept

hoping to wake up

in oblivion

but every day

i find myself

in the midst of relevance

a place where i must

participate in absurdity

 

death comes to us all

is it not simpler

to lie back and wait?

is it not better

to just be

without concern for tomorrow

and the after

and the after that

and ... and ... and

 

the end is a foregone conclusion

why begin?

#end