The time has gone...

I feel like I am about to lose everything. Everything I worked for in my career, in my relationship and in my becoming. I don't think I've ever felt these feelings before, not even sure there's a word for them. When I was younger I dreaded not knowing how my circumstances would unfold, but back then things didn't seem so detrimental. It's as if the universe has been pilling up all my karma, storing it for the sheer purpose of imploding it all in a week's time. Everything is on the line. Nothing is safe. And never before has the table been so stacked. Come elation or desendancy, one thing is certain - that nothing actually is.

And the next thing he knew, he was walking through light snow back home, in a cloud of melancholy, thinking aloud from an excess of possibility like the dreamer that he was. He had an overwhelming sense of the world's plenitude; the massive, luminous spheres burned above him without irony; the streetlights were haloed and he could make out the bright, crustal highlands of the moon, the far-sprinkled systems; he was going to read everything and invent a new prosody and successfully court the radiant progeny of the vanguard doyens if it killed him; his mind and body were as a fading coal awakened to transitory brightness by the sheet magnitude of the universe, as it brushed against him, whispering the plethora of contingency; the world was endless without a doubt.