When will it come, the apocalypse? When, the Last Judgement. And what if it never comes? What if there is no Judgement? No messianic age?
What if there’s just time and more time? What if there’s just history and the horror of history? And nothing rising out of them.
Just ceaselessness. Just cruelty. Just violence. Just the great engine. Just the great mechanism of nature. Just the endless dumb cycles. Just the continuation of horror. Just its empty perpetuation. Just the cosmic cruelty, without redemption. Just eternal injustice.
What if nothing ever comes of this – of us? What if it just goes on? What if nothing is redeemed? What if it’s yet more senseless violence? And the administration of violence? And the organisation of violence and the management of violence?
Just the daily dealings of horror. Just murder by poison in the air, in the earth, in the water. Just the continual poisoning. Just the continual lies. Just the air, thick with lies. Nothing but lies. And lies on our lips, too. Lies that they make us tell. Lies that we tell to ourselves.
Work in Progress 