Survive!

 Surviving the Apocalypse. You know that stereotype of the insane person, standing on the sidewalk on some busy street, spewing ridiculous nonsense? You see how everybody gives him shifty glances as he yells out his ghastly predictions? Can you see the bloodshot eyes, the raw red throat, the saliva strands flying through the air as he attempts (in vain) to get any support, any recognition? He likes to think he is a Harbinger of doom, the predictor of the Apocalypse, and you like to think he’s just injected needles into his eyeballs. Well I am that guy. Not in such a literal sense, but I am that guy on the inside.

See, I’ll be out. Out where? Out anywhere. At the local grocery store, out for a walk, sitting in class. Where other people see regularity, where other people see the daily grind, my mind escapes off into other dimensions. Constantly seeing the worst in wherever I am, and making sure I have a means to survive, a means to escape. It’s sort of the ultimate survival mechanism. Walking down a sunlit path, you might be enjoying the pleasant smells and sights. I'm envisioning a flood. A flash flood. Where can I run? That tree. It looks solid, would it hold my weight?

Probably.

Are there branches I can reach?

Yes.

Would it withstand the force of this flood?

Sure, I gue- flood? What flood? There is no flood.

Right.

I'll be at, say, Home Depot. While you are looking for ways to improve your home, I'm seeing.... an Earthquake. An awe inspiring, Jaw smacking, earthquake. Where do I run? Where do I hide? Do I have enough time to get outside?

No.

I look around- up at the ceiling- trying to gauge the weight of those steel bars, that corrugated iron roof.

I gulp. Not good, not good at all.

Another glance reveals a long sheet of metal. Pausing for a moment, I look it over. Yes! I could hide under that! Wedge it under there, with the proper leverage, I might just survive (the shelves will take most of the weight, after all). And then I notice the stare of some guy, giving me a funny look because I’m so fixated on...

A cart. I've been looking at a flatbed cart for the best part of five minutes.

See, I need somewhere to channel all this creative energy. So I made this website. Maybe, while I’m posting every little nuance of thought that I concoct in my mind, I can kick back, relax, and not focus so much on death and destruction.

I guess we’ll see, wont we? Thanks for visiting Surviving the Apocalypse.