what is time, what counts but has no beginning, time can't end.

how long has the end times been around. it's always been and never ends. from the first sentence i stray. lost in my own thoughts. not thoughts, more like inchoate leanings. it's a lousy day, it's raining and it's pandemic and if it's not the end times i don't know how it will continue. that's reason to stay tuned. we hafta see what happens next. gotta drink more mugwort. i gotta dream more. waking life exhausts. i begin by looking at the coronavirus stats, before i look at my numbers. irrelevant. what do the numbers mean. the numbers are simple counting. counting the days in the end times til the end time. time ends with each of us. every day we wake up, begin again. is this the end? are we all gonna die soon? the numbers mean little next to nothing if they don't tell the story, the numbers are where the story is left untold we want to know. we want to know where we go in the end.
if god wills it who are we to question why. who is god? who are we? are we the children of god? whose god wills all this. there must be many many gods. pandemonium of gods. end times is no one god's will. all one. no will. after the collapse who will? we will not see.
r. has a pain behind her heart, hunched over her sewing machine for two days making masks. can i wear my bird mask in the rain? how will i breathe, how will i see, today?