Tranquility Seems Like Deja Vu

Sometimes I dream for the world to end.

I don't mean that in a bad way. I'm not staring up at my ceiling at night, wishing on stars that the population is suddenly wiped away. I don't pray for the earth as we know it, the land beneath our feet to vanish before our next step, leaving us each to scramble for something to keep us grounded.

Of course not! I wouldn't even wish that upon my greatest enemy if it were possible for me to introduce it. I sincerely believe the world of soil and of seas is meant to be here forever, and that it'll never crumble as much as there are days that make it seem it has an expiration date. Yes, seriously, I believe that that we are stepping on ground that has begged to be populated since it began, and I believe that we will eventually be able to stay for eternity along with it.

Gripping to the possibility of being everlasting is planted in our hearts for a reason.

But I dream for the world to end. I don't take that back. I dream for the problems that we face to suffocate beneath us, and I dream for the wicked evilness to drown at the bottom of the sea. A place of no more disease, of pandemics, of poverty or pollution, of crime or of war, but a place of flawlessness and of rejoicing.

I gratefully and whole-heartedly imagine a time where there is no more badness no matter where you look, and we experience perfection to the north, to the south, to the east ad to the west. I pray for a time that defilement is over with, pulled away like a dirty rug to be forgotten about from then on. When women feel safe to go out at night without holding their keys between their fingers and men are not teased for being weak or expressing emotion.

I long for the time we are no longer diverse, broken up by opinions that circle around politics and the human government or the color of our skin, the texture of our hair or the shape of our eyes. Oh, I crave for the beautiful light we'll receive when the divine steps in, taking on what we as mere human beings could not pull off no matter how hard we tried: ruling ourselves.

I want these messes to be solved, and I want the mess in my heart, in my head, in my blood to be solved as well. I want to be healthy, cleansed of broken emotion, yanked from anxiety and starved entirely of death and of aging and it sucks. It sucks that that's too much to ask for now, sometimes. It sucks that we're getting sick and tired of our own sickness and tiredness. It sucks that we all have to suffer in order to survive.

And still, I have hope. I have faith that we are loved and that we're meant to be saved from the distresses we face. I cling to the idea that there is a "Prince Charming" up in the clouds strong enough to save everyone with a heart on the globe, and that there's a life better than this. That we are meant for more than what we are getting and that we'll get a life without trouble. A life that will give us bigger purpose than the way we know it to be.

We are getting closer to unity, to harmony, to an abundance of food and of water, to peace and security, to satisfaction, to further learning, and to a life that doesn't end. We are nearing in at last.

My, my. Sometimes I dream for the world to end, so I can get up the next morning and keep myself going. So that I remember to not give up just yet. So that I can happily be me in the lifetime I have been gifted.