you don’t know when you started wishing for the end of beginnings instead of the beginning of an end. you figured out that it would be an easier way out, no consequences, no aftermath, but in the end a wish is just a wish and shooting stars are just meteors that crash and burn into nothing but ashes, leaving craters in its wake. if only this was a doomed timeline, you tell yourself as you know that no such thing exists, that we can only carry on till the end of our time. but everything would be easier if it was doomed from the start, knowing that nothing really matters anymore and you wouldn’t have to face the trail of destruction you left in your footsteps, visible in the irritated furrow of eyebrows and downturn of lips. you feel it in the car meter stealthily creeping upwards, the tense air that hangs high like electric cables; you hear it in the absence of your car radio. or maybe this is already the doomed timeline, you laugh mockingly to yourself, as you watch time inevitably pass you by and the ground sinks into itself before you. maybe you were bewitched with this fate, doom in disguise and you feel the devil take control. a ticking time bomb, is what you are.