Try

Try
By – Robert Goldsborough

    It’s not that the world was ending that bothered me so much; it was that everyone seemed to already know except me.  Here I was pacing and scratching out any bit of creativity I could.  Trying to leave an impression, a thought, just a tiny piece of immortality that could be passed on to countless generations.  But, there were to be no more new generations.  The governments had known about the asteroid for decades.  It was just too big, total annihilation.  The planet, our planet with all of us on it, would be gone in just a few more months.  There was nothing to be done.  So they did nothing.  I had started to wonder why all of our forms of art seemed to be lacking inspiration, why even our new buildings seemed temporary.  It is because nothing will last.  Nothing will survive.  Why should anyone try?  There will be no one to inspire or remember.  The governments had not told anyone, but they weren’t hiding anything too well either; I found out from just a little digging.  I guess the human race just subconsciously stopped caring.  Our modern world just became a model of mediocrity.  We are just going through the motions until the machine explodes.  I am not sure if I am better for the knowing.  It seems harder to want to scratch out new ideas.  But I guess I’ll try.