The End of the World

I never knew I would grow up to become one of those people

Who act outside the common conception?

And therefore stared at like a bad taste in the mouth

That I would contemplate stuff like the sun rising at night

Or hate stereotypes to the point of becoming one

I was free

And wordless

I still am free

Sometimes worldless

Other times

While I'm typing on my laptop even

I feel this.. this world form over me

As if hoping to evolve while my back is turned

It starts when I turn my head to the site of them approaching

They don't necessarily have to spark diolague with me

Just sit around

Converse with one another

And that's when I'm reminded of the role I decided on indecisively

But this is only fact in the mysterious world thats taken form

When I find myself in it:

Fact is fiction

Up is down

My music is different

I look different

I even talk different

I look at myself in conversation and say

"That's not how I talk!"

I methodically question my ethical belief systems

and role as a human being in society

What I consider right

Who I consider attractive

The way I'm moved and what is love

My conscious is cleaved away from bone and flesh

As if painted on

The sky falls

Fire reigns from the heavens

The earth trembles

Planets collide

The cosmos tear

And then they walk away

The world vanishes

And I continue typing on my laptop...