I wonder if love is real.

It used to be the only thing I believed in.

I've recently become obsessed with the thought that the world as we know it will soon end. Perhaps it's just the recurring dreams of the flash of a nuclear warhead, or wandering the rubble of a city with my heart pounding so hard that it wakes me up. It very well might also be what I've gleaned from the news recently, and being a pessimist. Or it's very possible that I've been watching too much of the walking dead. Either way, it seems to be one of the only things I'm able to devote energy towards these days.

A pervading sense of doom is following me, and taking the color out of life. I'm more than aware that I am not the first person to have the thoughts that I have, or to try and draw their dreams. Something stops me from listening to reason and soldiering on with my currently purposeless existence. Perhaps it's the hope that maybe it will happen, and I will be reborn into a new world where everyone's fate isn't set by the money that they were born into.

Of course, this is common as well. Who doesn't want to start over? Reforge our society and try to rediscover the human experience as it must have once been.

I'm probably crazy.