The End of the World

Now that it's 2012, more of the kids at school come up to me asking if the world really is going to end this year (I cannot stand people who make a living out of peddling fear). I tell them, "No. No one really knows when the world will end. Today's a new day. Every thing's going to be okay."  You can see a fresh infusion of hope creep into their faces.  Some of them really do sigh and smile and make comments like, "Oh, good. I didn't really think it would."  It amazes me that they have that kind of faith in me to ask such an important question. I feel like a sage. But, having been someone who's been through the end of the world, and come back to tell about it, I guess I am experienced in this field. 

When this whole thing about the Mayan calendar started, the end of the world as I knew it was already happening. The addiction meteor had already crashed into the surface of my surroundings. I have had to find mental shelter, emotional housing, and food rations of crow for a while, now.  I've survived the end of the world, and am starting to pick through the rubble of  postponed dreams.  Daily, I'm sweeping and rebuilding.  I come out each morning, cautiously watching the skies for any stray meteors or bombs that may be falling; so far, they have appeared to have stopped. Though the air is at times thick with smoke and fumes, I'm breathing and functioning. The sun is shimmering though the hazy skies. There is hope.  So, when I hear or watch the endless documentaries on 2012, on the History channel or Discovery, I can lean back, put my feet up, smile and say, "The end of the world?  Been there. Done that."