The End of Tomorrow

The End of Tomorrow When you sit alone in your room, enjoying your solitude and someone tells you, this is the time of your life, the trivial will say you can sleep til ten, in the morning if you want to and you think, why not forever You know there is no afterlife, you knew that when nine years old Santa Claus, was the woman next door in drag, handing out gifts, paid for by your mother. When the doorbell chimes and a Christian sadist makes it clear you must believe in Jesus because you are old and can die, any moment now. When you listen to the soft breaths of the one you love and hope you will die first because you can't handle the practical side of life. Then there is the notion there are two of you, if one dies the soul takes abode somewhere else, in a beautiful garden perhaps, and waits to be a soul for someone else. Think if you had a choice, to be the soul of a donkey in Sudan for all time, carrying the meager belongings of someone fleeing the endless wars. The conclusion must be if you are still of sound mind death has some merits after all.