The end to begin with

Dirt, celebration and goodbyes

Do I avoid the end on purpose? I feel like I'm going round and round and round again, just to not end anything. What am I afraid of? Going in circle, enjoying the voyage but never the destination. I start so many things, I have so many ideas. Maybe if I had the energy, the will, the focus to keep going, I would become good at it. But I keep avoiding, I keep falling out of love my own projects. And when I love one too much, I burn myself up.

So I decided to begin with the end. Just like that. I'm already done with it. I finished it. No remorse, no guilt. I start with the end to enjoy the destination. I'm already there. I'm already done. Congrats me. I tricked the system.

Or I'm just lying to myself. It's just another circle I'm falling into.

But also all these ideas, all these projects, even unfinished, even let on the side without ever saying goodbye, brought me here, today. I don't really know what that's mean, but that should mean something, right?

They got my back at some point. They gave me freedom, they gave me support.

I'm telling you all this and you probably have no idea of what I'm talking about. But does it matter? Do you really need to know what I failed, what I gave up, what I maybe should have pushed and dig deeper?

The end is a goodbye. I fucking cry everytime. Everytime I cry. Is it why we don't do it, say goodbye? Because we never really know when is the time to say goodbye? Should we wait until the very end, when it's getting real? Or should we say goodbye before that, when the emotion is not here yet? Is a goodbye without emotion lost, missed, failed? What makes a good goodbye? What makes a good end? Should we celebrate the end more than what we do, what I do?

I always wonder how celebrations were invented. Did people choose to gather and eat and drink and decorate? Did it happen organically? What were the steps of building a tradition? At which point a tradition becomes pointless, because we lost the meaning of the goal? Should we say goodbye to traditions when they seem pointless? Or will we just realise why there were there in the first place when we'll miss them.

Is the end always encapsulated in the beginning? Can we know, speculate, imagine the end of all things?

Where are we going? Where am I going?

The end had a taste of dirt. Something earthy, forest-y. It is dry and brown. It is without energy, it is burned out. It is ashes and cry.

Good thing that is already done and we can start our reverse journey to the beginnings.