Everything always going on. People worry about everything not going on but what they’re really saying beneath the waves what they’re really saying and worrying about is them not going on. Everything going on and them not. I not continuing. If it feels like the world is ending it is because you are ending. Individual endings magnified to worlds ending. Autumn is a sonata. A soft lisping grave for lost hours. Fall falling is the sense you have when mortality grows yellow inside you and you ending becomes a felt thing. A notation at the edge informs you that you will be ending and you ending becomes all ending everything ending. Every generation spells doom differently yet the same. One of the older meanings of apocalypse was revelation. We waiting to be revealed to ourselves are apocalypses unto ourselves. In the dust of lost blue hours we go silent. As if practicing to be dead. Then we talk and come back to life and the cycle renews with us wondering about everything always going on and everything ending and really what is there to do except cherish and bless.