667th and the last.

“Man himself is divine in that he feels. He is the very feeling of God. God created him in order to feel through him.”

When one starts a business, one must finish it with honor.

I have written my life on these cyber pages. Nowadays it takes a while before you hold in your hands the physical outcome of your work—often we deal with blank screens and flashing lines. Perhaps in thinking we can now store pages and pages of ramblings never running out of space we reduced any chances at an earned immortality.

Nevertheless, that is a discussion for another day.

I am writing this with other goals at hand. First and foremost, to thank. To thank those who have been here with me all along. 666 times I chose to inflict my conclusions, you chose to listen. And that is a lot to say in a world like ours: where the time of the day runs out of hand fast, and we are all scheduled to work in limited attention spans. I thank to all those who told me of their familiarity with these pages on nights where conversations flowed brighter than blood, where wine wetted the compliments that their words forged, when they quoted unexpectedly a piece of my mind, making me blush in confused gladness.

Even those who silently remained aloof, I knew deep down that they knew everything I meant to say. Sometimes I was bound by that fear of recognition, and I kept things to myself. Other occasions I spilled out the anger and the frustration to those I couldn’t do so face to face. But either way, I knew someone was always listening, and that urged me to tell the story which was hardest to tell: my own.

I despise goodbyes. I often skip ceremonies and pretend to be indifferent to not let it show that I remain with a broken heart at departure. This, I can only hope, is not a goodbye: therefore I do not despise or fear it.

I loved being here. And I was here only when you were. Only when I knew there was for certain an ear open to my voice I chose to speak.

Yet we all have to change faces and move on. I will not quit doing what I do the best—that is to tell stories. I just will not do it here anymore.

Perhaps a different page I will turn, perhaps you’ll hear of me tomorrow, perhaps never again. But whatever comes out of life, comes out of me, you'll know. One way or the other.

Right now this blog—this aimless yet excessively vital place of heart—leaves behind the phase of existence it enjoyed for so long.

It is time to say goodbye now.

Farewell, and thank you again, for listening.


May we meet on the next page.