I found an old dream. There is, perhaps, an un dying and endlessly mocking irony to the way I think and have thought. At times I wish I could be renewed, but I am what I have been and what I will be.

12 July 23:57

I see a man, leaning off the edge of a pipe tower. Day dreaming staring into the setting sun. He falls onto the factory roof. 100 feet. One in a million chance and he’s the survivor. He has a week of fame and glory. Everybody wants to hear his story. Sooner or later people grow tired of hearing about his dreams. Of travelling far off into the land of the free world. 

He builds bikes in his spare time. One morning he rides off deep into the desert and vanishes. Presumed dead. His friends and family put his story to rest. 

I also see a couple who live in a frozen volcano. At the very tip they have a tiny house and the end of this earth. Praying only for their safe transfer to the next world. 

Humanity is divided into two the rich and the poor. But the rich are not greedy and careless just lucky. They transcend into the star-children. 

Beings that have no human form. Spirits that drift into the universe and converge with god. Travelling inside him (he is the universe) collecting information for the next universe where the universe collapses into itself and starts again renewed. The galaxy’s are so spread out that the Milky Way has reached the event horizon. Planitary conquest is so far away that the outposts are abandoned. The only contact left are the star children. 

Our hero finds one of their communications post in an old city at the base of the mountains. 

An old mechanic lives there who used to serve as a communion with the star people and the poor who live abandoned on earth. 

They bring advice for how to live in earths dying day but the dying day has become so close that star people abandoned their poor for their fate is sealed. 

Our hero’s destiny is to become the last star-child. 

He works with the mechanic to contact the star people for one last piece of advice.

The mechanic fixes the city and dies. Our hero becomes the last king of old in a barren city. 

A great king of nothing searching for years he finds nothing until his dying day. The day of his death an old flame travels into the city to find him. A Great War has broken out in the new cities a battle for power of the last resources of a dying planet. 

She finds him in a trance. She looks after him feeding and cleaning him until finally he turns to her with sight fading and speaks into her head. A voice. 

“We are the last of a dying race. The angels have spoken to me. Have no fear. In the face of an ending begins again all that is good here in a new form in a new light. We shall all start again and these atoms in a new form shall find each other again. You see our bodies are entangled forced to gravitate towards each other. Over and over. In the last life we were children and grew together in this life we were estranged but in the next life. We are married and have children of our own. We are together not simply as a reproduction of our race. We are the souls given to each other by god to gather up the piracies of each world and find what the next world needs. 

There is no meaning to life other than to be a part of its grace and wonder. And in the beauty of it our souls are combined. Not in order to serve god for we are together a part of god. 

I will wait for you on the other side not in my brain but in my spirit I will know you when I see you.”

She watches as he leaves this world. And as the world ends drifts safely into the spirit world. Drifts between dimensions to be born again.


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