The End of the World

Dreamed about the end of the world. Knew it was coming in the form of an atom (or hydrogen) bomb which would be detonated just a few miles up the beach from where I was living. Wilma and other people I had some kind of history with were also there. It was some kind of meeting place. There was an operations centre with computers and phones and lots of energy, even with the knowledge that nothing could be done. I was trying to get online to blog a last post but was unable. We were allowed to *take* three things. I only remember a blue marble, roughly carved, bird.

As can be imagined the feelings aroused by this knowledge ran the gamut from fear to acceptance, from frantic useless energy to a kind of glazed ennui. I wanted to be with the horses. I was sorry they were going to pay for human stupidity. The helplessness was what grated.

Then I was walking along the beach, a beach that resembled Four Mile in Port Douglas, when there was a flash in the distance. This is it, I thought. I love you God, I thought and waited to be obliterated. But I wasn't. I woke up.

And thought why did I say I love you God as my last thought. Was it a plea to be noticed and saved? Was I sincere or just bargaining? And why these disaster dreams? The Mayans predicted the end of the world in December 2012. December 21 to be exact, the day of the summer (or winter) solstice. There was some religious quack who predicted the end of the world this year. His followers sold or gave away everything they had in preparation. Oddly enough, the world did not end and the leader has slipped into obscurity. One wonders why perfectly normal people would believe such a man especially as he'd predicted the end of the world once before and was proven wrong. But then end of the world predictions have a history as long as mankind has looked up at the night sky and wondered.

Perhaps this disaster dream is a plea from my subconscious to make my life memorable rather than coasting along thinking I have all the time in the world. I don't but we all think we're immortal. Logically we know we are going to die but we live our lives as though we'll live forever. Having said that I best go make the bed and clean the cat litter trays.

NB:  Why I can't make paragraphs in the final cut is beyond me.  Something to figure out another day.