I just read this book about the end of the world. And it made me think about a lot of things. The book had a handful of short stories dealing with different ends to humanity, civilization, even the planet. What struck me is that all of them are all too possible. And so it got me thinking again, about the end.
The end is always inevitable. Once you begin something, you've sentenced it to end as well. Much like life, the day we are born is the day we start to die. Everything dies, or ends. Some, much too soon. And it's always sad to see good things go, when they do. So what does it all mean to me? Well, I've heard once that birth and death are but endpoints - points in a line. And what makes a line, a line, isn't the endpoints but the points in-between. The endpoints only mark it distinctly from any other line, but between them are an infinite number of points.
Hmm.. this talk of lines and points have led me to another thought. So I might as well pursue it before I forget. It came to me after using lines as an analogy to life that it is indeed a very nice analogy. We've been taught in geometry about planes and space figures. And it has amused me to no end how the different forms of lines can explain in simple terms various relationships between people. I used to question before the use of math in daily life, and now I think it isn't quite as useless as I once thought.
With people's lives in the context of lines. It can be said that no one will ever get to know everyone in the world. Hence, not all lines intersect. the few that do usually intersect only once. It may be a fated encounter or anything really. A straight line that intersects a parabola on its base can be said to have changed the life of that line. Then there are parallel lines. Lives that move in the same direction, but never intersect. They might see one another at different points in life, but remain strangers all the same. There are also skewed lines, that from a certain plane looks to be intersecting each other. But from a different angle, one can see that they're on different planes and will never share anything. Then there are the asymptotes. Two lines that will never, ever, touch one another even as they get closer and closer. The distance between them never quite reaching zero. There's a hyperbola. Two lines that, at first, were destined to intersect, but gradually veer off in opposing directions. And two lines sharing one endpoint, but one ending before the other. Some abruptly, some not quite so. So many things to learn from the most odd places. I've never looked at lines the same way again...
*Moving back to the topic*
The end will come for everyone. And right now, I can't help but think about it coming for me. If I knew that I was going to die tomorrow, what would I do? Perhaps I'd be a little more daring, risk more, knowing that any consequence isn't going to be for very long. And now I've thought of a lot of things I want to tell other people. Things that I think they really ought to know. Things I wanted to say, but was too afraid to say. Things that I never really got to say because I keep telling myself that I'd get to it someday. Things that just seemed like the right time to say. Maybe I'd be more brave then, more bold, more open. Maybe. And then again, maybe I really won't tell anyone anything. Acting like it's any other day even as time slowly ebbs away. Just so as not to worry anyone, if ever. Anyway, I've lived my life in silence my whole life, maybe it's just fitting to fade away into silence rather than going with a bang.
Whatever happens, what I'm sure of is that if I get the chance, I'll be writing a letter to everyone I know. My final act, maybe. Just to let them know that they have brought something to my life - experiences, emotions, feelings, thoughts, anything that made me feel something. And made my life a little more colorful for it.
But for now, a simple thank you would suffice.
Thank you, everyone!
