Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.


I’ve never been able to “finish” a story.

Whenever I write, I leave something to be resolved, even at the end of the story. Whenever I read a book or play a story-driven video game, or any other thing that culminates into a conclusion that cannot be compared, I always slow down my pace. I don’t know if it’s due to the fact that I want to relish in the conclusion or merely my mind telling me something. After all of this thinking, it’s all due to the fact that I absolutely hate things that end, which is damn stupid considering that everything ends eventually. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s true.

It also scares the living shit out of me.

(Originally written in September, Just another draft that sat around, waiting to be added to or published.)


One Comment on “coda”

  1. christine says:

    no one really like things to end, do they ?

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