The Last..... meets the First...... Video game currently redacted and [DATA-EXPUNGED] You and I we are the same.... You and I... There can only be.....one.
"Hey Folks!", do not retune your radio... Brain chip interfaces can enable the blind to see, the deaf to hear again and those who have damaged nervous systems from strokes, amazing. Amazing for everyone except those who refuse, those who refuse although others around them ❤ life again. Who is bigger, the lonely exposed criminal or the light of the internet?
Image standing and facing the end of the world: The End of the World: The silence is overwhelming now. It hangs in the air, thick and suffocating, as if the universe itself is holding its breath. I stand here, the last soul in a world that once thrived, and I can feel it-everything-slipping away. There is no more sound, no more movement. The world has ceased its turning, and I am alone. The sky above, once so expansive and vibrant, has turned to ash, a canvas of gray and black. The stars are gone, swallowed by the encroaching void, and with them, all light and hope. I look around, and I remember a time when this place was alive. I remember the laughter of children in the streets, the hum of voices in crowded rooms, the sound of wind dancing through trees. There were colors-so many colors-but now, all that’s left is this desolation. A lifeless, hollow echo of what was once a world full of promise. How did we come to this? We were warned, time and time again, yet we ignored the signs. The flames that consumed forests, the floods that swallowed cities, the sicknesses that swept through nations-it was all there, all right in front of us, but we turned away, believing there was always more time, that someone else would fix it. Our arrogance. Our greed. Our apathy. This is the cost. Now, I am the last. I am the one left to witness the fall of everything. Every sound has died, every breath has stilled, every heartbeat has ceased-except for mine. I can feel it thudding in my chest, slow and deliberate, like the ticking of a clock counting down the final moments. But for what? There’s no one left to listen. There’s no one left to understand. As I stand here, amidst the rubble of a world we once knew, I can feel the weight of all those who came before me-their hopes, their dreams, their failures. They are all gone now, swallowed by time and their own short-sightedness. What did we think would happen? That we could take and take from the earth, from each other, and face no consequences? That somehow we were immune to the laws of nature, the cycle of life and death that governs all things? There is no more mercy now. No more second chances. The earth has had enough of us. The oceans rose, the skies burned, and the land cracked beneath our feet, but still, we refused to see. We built towers of steel and glass, thinking we were gods. But gods do not die-and we are dying. The ground beneath me trembles. A low rumble echoes from deep within the earth, as if the planet itself is sighing its final breath. The buildings that once touched the sky are crumbling, their mighty foundations reduced to dust. Everything we built, everything we fought for, is collapsing, disintegrating, vanishing into the void. The cities we called home are now nothing more than ghostly silhouettes on the horizon, remnants of a civilization that thought it could outrun its own destruction. I look to the horizon, but there’s nothing left to see. Just darkness creeping closer, devouring everything in its path. I wonder if this is what oblivion feels like-a slow, relentless pull toward nothingness. There is no fight left in me. I stand here, waiting for the inevitable, because there is no escape from what’s coming. The earth shudders again, and for a brief moment, I imagine what it would feel like to simply let go. To fall into the darkness and disappear, like everything else. To be nothing, to become one with the void. But I’m still here. Still standing. Still breathing, for now. I wonder, as I wait for the end, if there’s anyone else left. Somewhere, in the vastness of this dying world, is there another soul, standing as I am, watching everything come undone? Or am I truly alone? The thought chills me, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Alone or not, the end is the same for all of us. The end is coming. I feel it in the air now-the finality of it. The world is quiet, too quiet. It’s as if even the universe has resigned itself to this fate, as if all the stars, all the galaxies, have stopped turning, waiting for the last breath of a world that’s run out of time. The sky is darker now, the shadows thicker. I can feel the cold creeping in, the slow, inevitable embrace of death. And yet, there’s a strange peace in knowing that this is it. There’s no more struggle, no more pain, no more uncertainty. The world is ending, and with it, all the burdens of life are fading away. I’m not afraid anymore. There’s nothing left to fear when you stand at the edge of everything, staring into the abyss. The ground splits beneath me, a chasm opening wide as the earth groans in its death throes. I feel the tremor, but I don’t move. I can’t. I won’t. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from what’s coming. The darkness is all-encompassing now, stretching out before me, ready to swallow me whole. And yet, in this moment, as the world crumbles around me, I can’t help but wonder-was it all worth it? The wars we fought, the lives we sacrificed, the things we built… Was any of it worth saving? Or were we always destined to fall, like stars burning too bright, too fast? There are no answers now, only the silence. Only the waiting. The world is ending, and I am its final witness. I close my eyes. The darkness presses in, cold and heavy, as the last light fades from the sky. The end is here. And I stand here, alone, waiting… until there is nothing left but silence. And then, even that will disappear.
Describes the malicious end of humanity, almost like we saw it coming. We've only been carrying out useless tasks of war or "operations" with exponential weaponry, will we ever find peace or will we destroy ourselves?
Oh no this is a descendant to hell and it's completely out of sync. This might sound good to someone on ecstasy or cocaine. It's the Bellows of a drunkard in an alleyway in a brass wheelbarrow.
