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The Forecast

from Apocalypse Songs by Aaron J. Shay

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lyrics

And now for tomorrow's ten-day forecast:
Tomorrow you will wake up and feel slightly out of place
There will seem to be no reason that this should be the case
You'll go through all the motions, try to find what you are missing At first you'll find a quick fix with nostalgic reminiscing
But soon that high will wear away, and leave you in the cold
You'll worry you're irrelevant, you'll worry that you're old
These worries are a product of material society
That profits from your sadness and from your anxiety
But maybe, when you wake up, you will find your great escape
I'm not quite sure the color and I'm not quite sure the shape Maybe travel, maybe romance, maybe a new career
Or maybe cutting out all of the bullshit that you fear
And now for tomorrow's twenty-year forecast:
The neighborhoods you loved will have become unrecognizable The hipsters will wear fashions you will find quite inadvisable You'll meet some peers much younger and more talented than you Your self-esteem will suffer, but there's not much you can do
The aesthetic of the previous generation (that you hated)
By the youth, to your dismay, will become celebrated
The bestselling books you loathed will have become unavailable And all your favorites will be known as critically unassailable
Every scandal, every crime, and every devastation
Will seem much worse than those in your memory's estimation
It's comforting to think that things were better in your youth
Even though that's very rarely ever been the truth
And now for tomorrow’s one hundred year forecast:
You no longer feel so sad or sick or angry or exposed
There is no "you" that's left to feel; your brain has decomposed Most things that you did, to be quite honest, are forgotten
Be the actions noble or be they misbegotten
But you changed the world a thousand tiny ways you'll never know By interacting rather than existing in tableau
The paradox of existence is that everyone is essential
While at the same time, no one is, and though it seems tangential In a billion years, the sun will turn the planet into ashes
The universe will eventually cease expanding as time passes
That's tomorrow's forecast, sorry for getting so graphic
That's all for the weather, now, let's go to the traffic

credits

from Apocalypse Songs, released January 26, 2019

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Aaron J. Shay image

Aaron J. Shay Seattle, Washington

He/him.
Sci-fi storyteller and banjo balladeer. I believe in the good kind of apocalypse.

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