We are the stuff that dreams are made of… And thus dreams are made of ignorance: My last post.

At The End of All Mortall Things, I can’t help but wonder: why now?

What is reality? What is the state in which you dream? When we are awake? When we think? I wonder these things, but they are all pointless questions. Yet, somehow, I cannot push them out of my head. Does it matter if we are asleep when we dream and if we are awake when we do not? What if the world that you know is but a dream? And every night, when you go to bed you wake up? Take a second, pause. And think about it.

This will be my last post.

I have made countless trips to the refrigerator. I simply cannot shut my eyes. But, strangely, it has less to do with the fact that I am an insomniac than with the fact that the world will end tomorrow. It’s as if every time I try to sleep my head shakes and I am awake again… except I do not want to be. I fear I shan’t live to see the Apocalypse. This burden will be the death of me.

Its around midnight.. although I can’t be sure as time has become but an irrelevant constant. A series of ‘click…click’ noises from the giant Owl-shaped clock on the wall. Nothing more. Material. Mortal.

The light of the moon is shining through my window, the only illumination provided for what shall be my last post. I am holding a half-eaten sandwich in my hand that I have attempted to consume earlier today. All this lack of sleep has left my stomach dry. I look out the window and I notice only a black, limitless sky. It is now only midnight on the eve of the Apocalypse, but already the skies are empty. Its as if the stars themselves have become afraid and left. I take a bite out of my peanut-butter sandwich and I remember what it used to be like. I remember my girlfriend. I remember Claire. She used to smile like there was no tomorrow. Beautiful, she was, like the stars. And like the stars she is gone. I have failed to assume contact with her. The thought of her death disturbs me. Just thinking about it sends shivers down my spine. I cannot stand the thought of it. Take everything, but leave me Claire.

Here, At The End of All Mortall Things, I cannot help but wonder how ironic the world has become. In its last breath the world has begun to live. Just today I find myself down at the local park, life teaming all around me. It saddens me to watch. It would have brought the toughest man to his knees, had he known what I have known then; standing there, watching the world spit at my face in my vain attempt to salvage what will never be again. Among the children playing and the joggers running, a woman comes running up to me. This happens all of a sudden. Not two seconds later she begins to grab me by my shoulders and scream into my ear.

I’M HAVING MY CONTRACTIONS! MY WATER BROKE, I’M HAVING MY FIRST CONTRACTION!

She must have been about 25, the joy in her eye manifested by a single tear running down her face. I looked into her eyes. And then, as if on cue, time stood still. Space began to whirl around me, over my head. Stars flew past. Planets, moons, entire solar systems. Galaxies, entire clusters of galaxies; one after the other. Celestial objects I have never seen before. Faster now. The stars and the planets mesh together and form one large white blur. Faster still. Nothing is discernible now; only white. The woman in front of me, frozen in time; a drop of sweat running down her forehead. Then, time froze for me too. And, somehow, about a billion years must have elapsed in those few seconds as I stood there and, once again, glimpsed into the future. Another dream; what would probably be my last. For the briefest of moments I was propelled further into the future than I had ever gone before. Billions of years. And I caught a glimpse of the face of the Universe itself. Its beauty was breathtaking, but I saw no Earth. Space; yes. But no Earth. A speck of rock in its place. Black in its entirety; no oceans, no forests. Two moons orbiting around it; a fading dark orange sun, closer than usual. Most astounding of all, a gaping hole ate away about a third of the planet’s mass, making it an irregular shape. It just stood there, suspended in space, like the dying rock that it was. Like everything around it, it had a history. But this history was irrelevant now. Death dominated here. Everything seemed dead, devoid of life. And then, as quickly as it had stopped, space started whirling again, over my head. Time continued. A few seconds later, I was back. And I was thrust back into reality.

CAN YOU HEAR ME? I NEED A DOCTOR!

The woman. I had almost forgoten about her. Only a few seconds has elapsed for her in the time it took me to travel billions of years into the future and visit our dying Universe. Staring the woman in the eye, I had  no time to process what just happened. The woman seemed desperate. I again established eye contact with her and, in a measly, high-pitched tone, staring straight ahead, one word escaped my mouth: “yes”. One word. And one word only. She looked me in the eye and she left. Only at that moment had I realised what was going on. Life was being made. On the eve of the world’s destruction. I can’t help but wonder how ironic the world has become.

Before we go on, some final words of wisdom and a tune to go out on. Their musical poetry has saved me on many occasions before:

No safety or surprise. Claire, I will never look into your eyes again.

My encounter with the distant future has provided me with a new hope. Maybe life does find a way. Maybe, and I say this for lack of a better word, the remedy to the illness that is mankind lies within us, and, ultimately, the good will prevail over the evil. We can only wonder; wonder at the marvels of the Universe. The things it has yet to offer, the grandeur it has yet to show. It is, above all else, a vernacular, spectacular anesthetic of the mind, a pure inebriation, a state of heightened euphoria unlike any other. Dear reader, it is something to behold

I am distraught to announce my henceforth departure from my beloved readers. I have arranged plans for me to spend the dying moments of the Earth in the Pacific Islands. I have always wanted to go. For reasons concerning my safety and those around me, I have decided not to reveal the time I am to leave, lest that it will be today, nor my destination for that matter. If you have followed my advice over these past weeks, if you believe me, then I believe that fate will bring us together. If you, however, do not believe me, then I must wish you farewell at this point and, most of all, I wish you good luck

Yes, At The End of all Mortall Things, I can’t help but wonder. None of us can.

Consider this blog terminated indefinitely

SEVEN HOURS REMAIN.

A Haunting Past: Patience.

I FOUND YOU.

Claire, is this you? If this is really you then I have found you at last

The article headline reads: “CELEBRITY CEO RUNS FROM DOWNTOWN SHOOTING”. I found this article as I was scrolling through The Chronicle on Thursday afternoon. To my surprise, the name Patience Sierra looked at me from out of the page. So many memories, so much history, invoked by a series of printed letters in less than a second. Back then she was known simply as Claire. It was a pet name we had. Only we knew it. It was our thing.

Is it you? After all this time…

To my reading public, let me begin my elaborating the nature of this inquest. Claire, as you by now may or may not know, used to be my girlfriend. She had left me about a year after I came back from Morocco in 2003. She couldn’t handle an insane insomniac. Not one that predicted the end of the world. It was something I had understood. However, times change. And so do people. I see it now as my sole duty to convince you of the truth of my words. What better way than, I figure, to let you in on my past?

It must be.

My first vision of the Apocalypse did not really show the end of the world, as they do now. That trait has only developed in them within the last 2 or 3 years. No, the first vision I ever received, November 19th 2003, was of an Angel. This Angel’s name was Claire. I remember that date like a child remembers where its mother hid the cookie jar. In the dream, the Angel named Claire appeared to tell me that the world was going to end in exactly 4 years, 9 months, 27 days and 11 hours. It was an irregular date. It would end on the 15th September 2008. Not a significant date as such. I took no notice of it at first. But I remembered it anyway. I wrote it down. And it deteriorated in the pages of history for another 5 months. As if on cue, exactly 5 months from that day, the second dream occurred. This time it showed a nuclear bomb exploding. I had an eagle’s perspective. Everything died. But I lived. I began to grow anxious and from that moment on I believed what I saw. One thing that did stick with me after that November afternoon 5 years ago was the name ‘Claire’. It began to stick with us. It was my name for her. It was who she was: an Angel.

Patience ‘Claire’ Sierra. What have you done?

And thus the story of Claire. There isn’t much more to say. She has a new boyfriend now. She is better off. That is all that matters. In the end, who am I to control her destiny? As we shall see very soon, fate decides its own route. There is no intervention. Not in fate.

Nonetheless, I decided to pursue the story further. I decided to look deeper into her life. To uncover her past that has somehow evaded me. The future we never had. The past that was never whole. The article featured in The Chronicle mentioned something about a blog that she keeps. I persisted. And I found what I was looking for. All this time, Claire has made her online presence known in a blog not dissimilar to this one. www.patienceclaire.wordpress.com.

Yes, dear reader, on this very website, “The girl that didn’t cry at the funeral” is the one and only Patience Claire.

I FOUND YOU. I FINALLY FOUND YOU.

SIXTY HOURS REMAIN.

The Method and The Madness.

Yes, Madness. Above all things, there is madness: Behind every tree. On every street. Inside every building. It occupies the vacuum created by the hollow smile the store clerk throws at you when you enter a Woolworth’s outlet. It hides in every idyllic suburban home. It crawls into every single well-meaning citizen. It lives inside the mind of every child, the brain of every man and woman. It devours our thoughts and it turns reason and moral judgment into a empty black hole. It penetrates our minds, like a heavy fog penetrates every crevice of every street of every city on a rainy Sunday afternoon. And it calls this place home. Madness. It turns scientists into harbingers of death. It turns victims into aggressors, vigilantes into criminals, the sane into the insane. It is the one defining characteristic of human existence that shall live long after the destruction of its bearers. It is self-sufficient, capable of surviving without the sustenance provided by its host. It lives off the irregularities of the world. It breeds like a virus. It infects every cell. It multiplies until the world drowns in it. It is the creator of hatred and of violence. The spawn of racism. The justification for crime and adultery. It is ever-lasting and it will last forever. It will never die. Not as long as there is someone, or something, there to observe it, to take it in; like a mother takes in a stray child. Not as long as there is something in its path that can be consumed by it.

But, like I said, it survives without the sustenance of its host and will therefore be the only remaining thing on Earth. Ah, yes. Madness. The only true constant. Time: it will end. And so will space. But madness shall persist.

It appears the world has not yet ended. The experiment has succeeded. The destruction of the world will proceed as according to plan. Hadron has, thankfully, not failed mankind. Yet.

I write this blog today not to inform you of Madness, but also of Method. the method of your survival. I shall hence give you one last point of advice. Listen up.

When the bombs fall, they will fall in numbers. From what I have gathered in my dreams to date, including a very recent one I had yesterday, one nuclear bomb will hit every 200 km. When they fall, they will fall near cities. Every dream, every vision I have had to date has showed a bomb explode in a populated city. Escape to the mountains. Flee to the oceans. If you have a boat, use it. Get as far away from mainland cities as you possibly can. And Ann, if you are out there. Listen to me. I do not want you to die. Not like everything else.

YOUR INFORMANT AND PHILOSOPHER, ELI.

FOUR DAYS REMAIN…

The darkest hour: The Angel cometh…

THE WORLD… IT IS VULNERABLE. O SO VULNERABLE.

An article in Time Magazine issue 07/09/2008 reads:

“At precisely 8:30am this morning, scientists in Geneva turned on a machine that could have destroyed mankind by creating a black hole right here on Earth. The Hadron Supercollider in Switzerland is designed to throw the nuclei of large atoms, such as gold, together at close to the speed of light. The ensuing collision creates enough heat to produce a plasma 300 million times hotter than the surface of the sun. For the briefest of moments, the nuclei break down into their constituent bits – particles called quarks and gluons – a state of matter that has not existed since a billionth of a second after the big bang that began the Universe.

Fears were made public today at the press conference about whether the 18-mile long Supercollider, which was built to slam protons together at an unprecedented peak energy of 14 trillion electron volts, could spark, literally, the end of the world. If the miniature black holes that are created in this process become unstable in any way, the Earth, according to leading theorists, could be consumed into nothingness within 100 billionths of a second. First trials of the Hadron Supercollider at low energy levels are already underway. Scientist Pr. Rob Owen at the Hadron base in Geneva said today that CERN, the leading company in the development of Hadron, will be ready to “commence full trials by the end of the month.”"

IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING.

IT IS SOONER THAN I EXPECTED.

THE WORLD HAS BEGUN TO DESTROY ITSELF.

I sat there and wept. I could not believe it.

The Angel cometh… and that angel’s name is Hadron.

THE PROTECTOR OF THE UNIVERSE, YOUR PERSONAL FRIEND, ELI.

FIVE DAYS REMAIN…

At The Mercy of The Flames.

I watch the news more and more these days, in hope of a revelation. A sign that may tell me that all this is just a joke. That it will never happen. But who am I kidding. It is a fool’s hope. A hope, yes. But a fool’s hope at that.

WILL THE WORLD COME TO AN END?

Yesterday I find myself sitting in front of the television. A news report comes on. The reporter was someone I had never heard of. Someone by the name of Ann Carow. Apparently, she is the Australian correspondent for Indonesia for SBS news. Out of fascination I sat there with the greatest level of respect anyone could ever have for a television set. This Miss Carow was reporting the news, but it wasn’t just any news. This was the news signalling the end of the world. Enthralled by the events taking place on my screen, I set about writing down what was said, and, to the best of my understanding, recall it here today:

Studio Anchor: And now we go live to Indonesian correspondent, Ann Carow. Ann, what’s the situation over there?

Ann Carow: Well, Steve, it looks as if Indonesia has once again descended into mass hysteria. By the looks of it, what is happening behind me, as you no doubt can see in Sydney, is that a car has just exploded and is now burning to a heap of ashes in the middle of what seems to be a busy street. State authorities and local police have subdued the situation and are suspecting the explosion to have been caused by a known terrorist organisation.

Steve: Ann, from what we can see in the studio, it looks like quite a mess over there. As you have said, the police are suspecting a wanted terrorist cell. Have they identified any suspects?

Ann Carow: Yes, uh, local police have indeed identified two suspects and apprehended a third, who’s identities will be kept secret by the Indonesian police indefinitely, Steve. It looks as if, from the information that I’ve gathered, that the three suspects are of Indonesian origin and that the attack was politically motivated.

Steve: Wow, what a tragedy. Thanks, Ann, we hope to speak to you again for further updates regarding the situation in Indonesia, later tonight at 10:00.

She was remarkable. I sat there, glued to the TV in awe of this Ann Carow. Although she may not know it yet, this news report was the beginning of the end of the world.

IT ALL STARTS WITH VIOLENCE. IT ALL STARTS WITH VIOLENCE. IT ALL STARTS WITH VIOLENCE. IT ALL STARTS WITH VIOLENCE. IT ALL STARTS WITH VIOLENCE. IT…….ALL……STARTS…….WITH…….VIOLENCE.

Ann. I think I love you. You have told the world what it needed to hear. You have said what nobody could say, and you probably don’t even know it. Ann, I wish I had your courage. If I did, maybe all this could be diverted. Together we could save the world.

As I sat there, I threw the thought out of my mind. I began to change the channel. She would come around, I thought to myself. Once she knew that this was only the beginning, she would change. They all would change. And then, Ann, THEN I could speak up and then everyone would listen to me. We could go together. To the Bahamas. Or the Pacific Islands. We could escape. The only two people who ever knew about the Apocalypse would be the only two people on the planet with the power to escape the inevitable. Ann, I miss you already. And I haven’t even met you yet.

I changed the channel. I came to my senses. I wanted to see what else was on. Had there been more stories about the Apocalypse? WAS THIS A SIGN? A sign that an ultimate destruction was eminent?

WAS THE WORLD TRULY BEGINNING TO COME TO AN END?

That question kept spinning around my head. As much as I tried, I couldn’t shake it. Why now? Why this? I’ve been dreaming about this for a good 3 months now and yet, I wasn’t prepared. I came across a CBC news report that caught my attention. This one was about a brutal street riot gone wrong in Canada. Police brutality and street violence. Its public conception began with the case of Rodney King and it is going to end with the Apocalypse. Along with everything else. The following video shows this report. I managed to salvage it from the grasp of some teenagers who had recorded it on their home camera next door. They thought it was cool. They were wrong. This is only the beginning.

Like I said, this is only the beginning. Similar reports have sprung up on British National Television, China-On-Air, Minnesota TV and even right here in Sydney on A Current Affair and Today Tonight. All across the world, riots are breaking out. People are being dragged from their homes by corrupt police and money-laundering state officials. Young girls are being raped on the streets. Egalitarianism, the respect for humanity, it seems, has flown out the window. The rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. The entire social structure of the world is ripping at the seams.

And yet, in all this confusion, I am alone. I have no-one. A memory of Claire. A longing for Ann. The past and the future. But nothing in between. I am nothing. My only purpose now remains to inform you of these events. To try and figure out, before it is too late, a way to save ourselves. Ann, come away with me. I am ready to move on.

Ah… I will never see the light again. Some final comments are in order, I guess:

A wise man once said that the world was going to end; that one day humankind would bury itself in the HATRED and the CRIME that it produced; that destruction would come with technology. That man was Thomas Edison. And that day has come:

“There will one day spring from the brain of science a machine or force so fearful in its potentialities, so absolutely terrifying, that even man, the fighter, who will dare torture and death in order to inflict torture and death, will be appalled, and so abandon war forever.“
– Thomas A. Edison

AT LEAST, WHEN THE APOCALYPSE COMES, HUMANITY, REST ASSURED, WILL BE FREE OF JUDGMENT. NO MORE RACISM. NO MORE CRIME. NO MORE VIOLENCE. JUST…. NOTHINGNESS.

YOUR WATCHFUL SLEEPY GUARDIAN, ELI.

EIGHT DAYS REMAIN…

It continues.

Here I am. The night is dark. Darker than I have ever seen it before. I am in some kind of rain forest. It looks alien, foreign… unnatural. Its quiet; there is no sound. I look up and I see 50 foot trees lingering high above me, blocking out the moonlight. The darkness in this place is challenged but by a single source of light, a purple light, and it shines through the trees and creates an eerie glow on the moss that seems to grow all around me.

I stop and listen. This place is alien, I think to myself. It scares me. I don’t know where it is, but before I have time to think further, I hear a sound off in the distance. It seems like it’s coming from a thousand miles away, but I can hear it as clearly as the night itself. Its a sound like I’ve never heard before; a deep, thundering roar. Then, a bright white light washes over me. Everything before me loses its colour and for a second I am blinded. The trees suddenly begin to quiver, as if they themselves fear this place. Then they fly away. I begin to see fully again, but it’s no use. Within a tenth of a second the temperature rises to 200 degrees Celsius, 1000 degrees within the second. Then, everything is gone.

Except for me. I am still here.

ELEVEN DAYS REMAIN…

Depictions of my past, my life…

The time is almost 11:30pm. I am about to attempt sleep. Luckily I have renewed confidence. I actually managed to get some sleep yesterday, so I feel compelled, in celebration, to finally let you in on my life. The veil of secrecy has been lifted. For those of you who didn’t believe my tellings of the Apocalypse on the basis that I seemed insane, here’s your chance to make it right. listen up:

Like I have already said, my name is Eli and I grew up in a small country town of Hallow, later moving to the city to work as an insurance salesman. My family was deeply religious, but somehow I never found the time for it. Or the patience. They say patience comes with knowledge. I guess I wasn’t a very enlightened country boy. Then again, I never had to be. I found out at the age of twelve that my dad wasn’t actually my dad. He had left us for another family. Another life. Lousy old bastard. I never had brothers or sisters. I’ve always been an only child. Believe it or not, but I didn’t always used to be this paranoid. The insomnia started at age 23. I am now 28. Five years. Dammit. Five whole years of this curse. I guess you can really see what it has done to me. What it has reduced me to. The following pictures I have posted here today for the sake of showing my reading public who I really am. This is a picture of me back in 2003, when I was 23. About a month before it all began. The sleepless nights. the restless days. And the visions. The paranoia. The fear. The anticipation for something that would never come. It was fear inside. And it was driving me insane… This picture was taken by my friend on our trip to the mountains in Morocco in late 2003.

Me at the age of 23

Like I’ve also already mentioned, I used to have a girlfriend. Her name was Claire. She left me on my 26th birthday. I don’t blame her. I never have. But I fear for her safety. My 26th Birthday… Looking back I guess that must have been the worst birthday anyone could ever have. I remember that night the visions were particularly bad. I actually cried myself to sleep because they wouldn’t stop. Maybe I should try it more often. My brain isn’t used to sleep. I woke up with a headache this morning.

I see the beauty in the world. That is one of my traits. An appreciation of the things around me and of those things that people take for granted every day. I have only come to acquire it recently. Every drop of water has its secrets. Every molecule has a story to tell. Imagine what you can gain just by listening..

Rain drops on a window

As a child I would run down to the river with my friends and dive into the water, pretending to be some Olympic athlete. Its funny when I look back now. How immature we were. I guess, thinking about it, that this is the solution to fear and paranoia. Immaturity.

My life hasn’t been easy. I’ve lost my job, my family, the people I love, my dignity… I’ve come to doubt my sanity, of all things. But these things are nothing compared to everything that I have yet to lose. That mankind has yet to lose. Like I said, we must remember the past. It is the only thing we can grasp onto now.

For ever yours, my reading public,

YOUR TRUSTED INSOMNIAC, ELI.