For All The Pessimists

I am surrounded by images of light, hiding in my core of darkness and wait for the sky to fall. Instead, the light expands to swallow me whole. Such disappointment to be proven wrong, when I revel in cynical predictions. Maybe today will be my anticipated apocalypse, and then my fears will be swept in a sort of divine gloom. Yes, I am sure that the end is nigh by evening's fall. Otherwise is anathema.

The moon has not exploded. Where did I go wrong?