There is no better or worse future, for there is no future at all.

We all know there are about seven billion people on this planet. I am one of the seven billion people alive currently. Soon, I will be part of the seven billion dead.

We all knew it was coming. It was predicted by the ancients; a global human extinction event, where all human lifeforms will cease to exist. Our bodies will rot in the soil, or in the comfort of our own homes. The final bells will ring, signalling the end of civilization as we know it. The anthropocene will finally be over. Humanity dies together.

December

They laid me off, and my landlord froze my rent. I lay on my sofa, watching TV. My body is far too attached to the softness of the sofa to get up. My eyes are forced to watch bad end-of-the-world Romance Dramas. Too many tearful goodbyes are said on the television as the crackle of fireworks roar outside.

If the world doesn't end tomorrow, these writers would seem so stupid. Of course, it is all a great conspiracy. There is nothing which could wipe seven billion people. All of those scientists had lied, their white labcoats hiding a truth which they don't want to admit. It is better for us to die off, after all.

If the world doesn't end tomorrow, perhaps I shall call that woman to tell her they all lied. We would finally have our coffee and catch up after years. That would never happen, though. There is no way that the entire population of humanity would panic over something like this.

Could the people of the past have predicted the world would end in such joyous laughter? with flashing parol lights and the jubilation of carollers? It did not matter now. The dead were dead and the world was soon dying. Even without the world-wiping disease, we would all die at some point. Its better to make it end now