What happens when the credits roll,
The story reached its end at last,
When everyone has played his role,
The stage time has forever passed?
I like to think that where they live,
As summer ends, it starts again,
There’s no wrong, harm to forgive,
And nothing ever happens then.
Days are long and bathed in white,
Same trees bear fruit day by day,
Night’s are clear, with moon’s blue light,
And no one ever goes away.
With passing time, their age stands still,
And what they want, is what they can,
No worries, anger or bad will,
Nothing ever happens then.
Happy endings are the best. You read about the struggles the heroes are facing throughout the book, or watch them, literally or metaphorically, having their butts kicked the whole movie, but once the story ends, and we leave them in a better condition than we would expect, it was worth it.
Being the curious kid that I was, unfortunately, endings rarely left me satisfied. I needed more. The story concluded, I understood that. There’s only so much interesting events and situations in the lives of real people, average people, so it’s reasonable to suspect that, to make it seem more relatable, more realistic, the fictional characters, as heroes of our the story, would also have some finite time of usefulness to the viewers or readers. But I refused to believe that their life ends with the closing credits or the last sentence of the last page. Their story might be ending, but their lives continue. And every time a story would end, to make it feel more complete and accept its conclusion, I needed to imagine lives of the heroes after their main story. Sounds crazy enough?
I’ve tried to express a very similar curiosity – twice to be exact. Once, I talked about people’s stories that are forever lost in time, and then, still the post closest to my heart, the inner creations, the wonderful worlds we bring to life.
As a kid, I just wanted the heroes to be alright, to have a good life. Rather than inventing specific scenarios for every character, I had a template that I used for all the stories.
First and foremost, there’s one main common theme in their lives further on: nothing ever happens. Their part is over. Now they’re up for some well deserved holidays. They sleep long and well, they eat breakfasts in the morning sun, they drink ice tea while reading some unnamed books, they, I don’t know, take walks through pine woods, you know. And everything is whiter than it is in the real world. The sun casts white light, the walls and the clothes are whiter. Not the night, though, the night is blue. Bright blue, but blue nonetheless.
And it’s always sunny, always warm. An endless summer, that’s what it is. Days are long and beautiful. Trees are always green, well, green and white. Full of fruits of course. There has to be a stream running nearby, with crystal clear water, probably some fish. Everyone is nice to each other, but they speak little – there’s no need anymore. Not because they don’t like each other. It’s just that everything that had to be said has been said, they reached the point where talking is no longer necessary to understand each other.
It sure sounds like I’m describing what I understand as Heaven, and that’s fair for you to think that. The truth is, I most probably am. I don’t really believe in the afterlife, but I like to think I get the idea. I want to have my own concept too, feels exciting.
So yeah, I suppose that in the end, I’m putting all these people, whose stories stop being told, or written down, in their Heaven of my design. Poetic?
The poem at the top is the poem I wrote with these two thoughts in mind. The expression “the characters whose story ends” has potentially more than one meaning, doesn’t it? You can see that, can’t you?
I said before, that I wish I was a poet. I think I have a lot of emotions to express, but little to no skill to do it. I try with music, but I’m as good of a musician as I am a poet, so…
Anyway, I’m glad I tried. I hope you enjoy, I hope you comment on it. Would be really awesome.