The Sky Will Burn

One day, the sky will burn. The continents will boil away. The surviving artifacts from billions of years of accumulated, unimaginable history will become indistinguishable as they evaporate into our dying sun. And that will be the end of it.

Our system of time is tied to our planet. If the speed the earth orbits the sun changes, the year becomes irrelevent, days and hours disappear when the planet stops spinning. This is a relief. I can't deal with the idea that the world will be destroyed on a Wednesday, or at lunch time. I can barely deal with the idea that there must, logically, be a specific exact moment when the planet stops existing.

These exact moments are odd to me. First moments and last moments. I am fond of them in general. But I have trouble imagining them actually happening.

For instance, after three months job-hunting, I can't actually imagine actually starting a job, although I put a lot of time into reaching that general state of being. I have no trouble imagining doing something that will last, but I have trouble imagining the specific circumstances that start it off.

I mention this because, obviously, this is a start of something. It might be pretentious, idiotic, wasteful, potentially embarrassing later on. But at least it's a start. Theoretically I only need to write one first post in this thing.