"there is no real ending. it’s just the place where you stop the story."

frank herbert

a bit of how everything leads up to some kind of conclusion in the end. 'we've come full circle,' some would say, and the best ones are bittersweet, melancholic, hope for redemption. we live, comforted by what we think will carry on beyond the last sentence. potential and speculation.

there is comfort in the unknown, is there not? if one can see it, believes it to be an outcome of their choice. we pester the creators for canon confirmation, resort to our own methods of dealing with it, sharing a theory.

we share a theory. in this way the story never ends. we just leave off, as we have always done for a great many other things. opening up to a fictional world brings about commitment, sentimental attachment and the chance to dissolve into something else entirely, watching, observing. you emerge from that brief peak into the thought, the heart of the people, the things which form some brief narrative.

the reading ends the same way for a lot of us - we close the book and move on to something else, another story, perhaps, or we re-attach ourselves to reality again.

you can always come back, hit replay, re-live.

the story does not end. it exists, it exists. it merely pauses, and the rest of it carries on in that realm of speculation, unknown to you.