What might be making you a tad apprehensive, but might not, as it's too soon to tell

[Next1]

The end. Or is it the beginning? I don't know. I'm just incredibly tired of not being. Of being. Being. Enough?

I was enough once or at least I thought I was. Then it all fell down. But then I built it again. Then it caught fire. Or was it set ablaze? Hard to remember because after that was the flood. But things dry out and others are replaced. Then all is shiny and new again. Then the earthquake. The earthquake was hard because while the others were natural the catastrophe was of my own doing. The earthquake though? That was a shock to say the least.

But I'm a builder. I'm pretty good at it really. Next is my favorite word. Or maybe it's fuck. Either way life goes on. And on. And on. On. On. On. It just doesn't stop. Because it's wrong to stop. Because everyone is counting on you to continue. Not succeed, but continue. To build. And sweep up the ashes. And build. And sweep up the rubble. But what if I don't want to sweep anymore? What if I want to lie down in the ashes? To let my head slip beneath the waves? Why can't I just pull the rubble over me?

Why?