It's common to envision the end of the world as a fire-work show.
Volcanoes erupt glamorously, hot lava streams lavishly down the streets, asteroids cut through the atmosphere and shake earth out of it's course.
Lately, with the clock ticking backwards on the ancient prophesy this thought creeped in at least once. What will I do if the world ends tomorrow? Do I have enough canned beans?
Life's short. Should I text my ex?
Life's short. Should I text my ex?
It's already an hour, here in Milan, after the the big show was supposed to start according to Mayan predictions. And we're all still alive. Very disappointing..
Imagine to wake up to a world where you are the only human left. You wake up late in the afternoon, you eat dried candy for breakfast (who's gonna stop you?) and you spend your evening trashing the streets wearing designers couture you looted earlier (because it's the latest dress code. Set by you). Indifferent for how you look or the reason in your deeds.
