Before Class

Knowing that we End is what keeps me sane.

By all logical standpoints, magic is non existent in our physical world. There are thousands of once-in-X chances, which sometimes occur. Thus chaos proves true; randomness controls and contorts our reality.

Then to look at proof of magic- honest magic. No illusions, no slight of hand, no mirrors. Just magic, pouring from your heart, your veins, your eyes.

If magic was real, then could coincidences still exist? Couldn’t every foreshadowing smudge be considered a pathway enlightened?

Unfortunately, when I think of death, I think how every living creature is instilled with energy; skeletons walking around with their skulls filled with electricity, with the eyes that woggle all directions and the chattering teeth, disconnected, jangling in front. When the spark goes out they freeze and collapse. They don’t go anywhere; they are just machines running on irreplaceable wires that burn out.

I see myself, lying down. The electricity stops and I cease to be. I End. My corpse is remembered and my actions through life are recalled on occasion. But I am done. I am gone, like yesterday- like the moment before this sentence ends.

It is here I arrive at the notion that I am crazy; I look for these things, even though I know they do not exist. Maybe there was a shadow at the doorframe. But it was cast at a coincidence; there is no magic behind it, spurring it on. But my mind changes it into an Omen, or a Vision. To me, just a thought; a comparison between one event and another that makes me think of something that I can fit into an archetypal schema that an American student in education might have.

Thus, I am happy, even in this realization of dread- I will not continue. It is not likely. But I still look everyday. I look, trying to prove myself wrong. I wish everyday that it might finally be time for me to see something I shouldn’t. I dream of a peaceful rest in the earth in death, meeting the watchmaker.

For now, I remain happy and I indulge in happinesses and luxuries of a peaceful mind. I stop to look at trees, I talk the time to make what I say count, I aim to help those who, in the future, may think of some of the same things I think now.

Be content in your life, because there is always the possibility of being wrong. Maybe there is really nothing after your body dies. I make myself happy, I rely on me and those I know who can trust. I do not take this world for granted as often as I should. But I will die happy. And if there is nothing, I would have been okay with it. If there is something beyond, and all my waiting comes to fruition, then I will only be made happier.