Midnight Musings

We are the generation breed on fear of an apocalypse. Not by a preacher before a pulpit, but by artists and authors, who have scripted their way into the minds of the children of the future. Raised on technology, accustomed to greed and spite. The signs all point us in the way of the horsemen.

So we screw ourselves away, cynicism spreads from unfulfilled promises. War and violence broadcasted to us from every angle. Reborn into a world where we have no jobs, no money, while being buried alive from debts we cannot hope to pay back.

The millennium, the Aztecs. All foretelling. Now war is coming from all angles. The once holy land being torn. Children dying useless deaths. Casualties of a terror that has spread it's fingers to all corners.

So I sit up at night. Typing away midnight musings. Keeping peaceful sleep from my wanting grasp. I turn on a show. Something light, funny. A lie to help me dream.