in every story there is a beginning and an ending. at the start we tend to feel excited, fearsome and anticipate what the future is going to hold. every adventure, every failure and every glorious triumph is all just squished between two key points of time; the time the trigger is pulled and you cross the starting line, and the point where you run through the ribbon at the finish line. we’ve all heard the cliche “maybe the journey is the destination?” But what happens when you hit that point of no return? What happens when the destination you reach has consumed you and and there is no longer any room to move forward?
Life has a way of fucking with your emotions and the way you view different points of reality. The sad thing is that it takes some huge horrific event(s) to really think about how you place in this race between start and finish. Sometimes you find out that you made it across the finish and are content with the ending you created. Or maybe you are still on the last 100 meters just trying to catch up with the fat bench warmer who is five noses in front of you. Honestly though, the best part is just being in the race, because once you cross the finish, your done.
Dont ever finish, just enjoy this shit-hole world we live on until the ref upstairs has to rip you off the track.