This is the end.
Can you see it?
Count to ten.
12345678910
Did the numbers blur together?
Good; that's good.
They're meant to be like that-
like each number is the same as the last one.
It's the same way that angels look down on the earth
and all us humans look just about as unique, and special, and completely individual
as dust or ants do to us.
We're 7 billion tiny insignificances.

This is the end.
Have I said that before?
Look at me.
Look at me.
You can't, right?
These are just words.
You can't see me through the words,
but it's just the same when you look at your sister
or your best friend from primary school or
the bin man with the funny moustache that reminds you of your grandfather's ashes.
You think you're seeing them, but you're not.
All you do is look.

This is the end.
Is this getting too repetitive?
Take deep breaths.
Inoutinout.
Feel that tickling against the back of your throat?
That's called regret.
You're puffing yours out and huffing everyone else's in-
Like the Big Bad Wolf except this is just the
Big Bad Pain that humanity is nursing
because babies have just been born
and old ladies always wanted to travel to the moon and never did.
Now there's not going to even be a moon to want to go to.

This is the end.
Can you hear me?
It's loud out here,
too many explosions.
Remember when no one on earth worried about explosions?
We'd bomb half the world and that would be that.
War about as commonplace as
milk or bread in supermarkets,
you mourn that you're never going to
get the chance to see world peace or send
that money you were going to give the refugees.
You can't have world peace without a world, after all.

This is the end.
Can you feel how it burns?
It's like you're a Viking warlord or a witch on a pyre.
What's your opinion on Viking warlords?
It's funny because you always used to have something to say about everything that didn't concern you, but you're opening and closing your mouth without a word about Viking warlords popping out.
Close your eyes before you claw them shut.
Take deep breaths.
Inoutinout.
Count to ten.
123456789

Oops. Too late.
This is the end of the end.