//------------------------------//
// The Last Chapter. The First Viewing. 
// Story: At World's End 
// by Visharo 
//------------------------------//

You wake up at World's End.

It isn't what you think. It isn't a white void. It isn't a a cliff or ocean that just drops off into nothing. It isn't flat nor is it round. It's just a beach covered in uneven rocks. The waves, boisterous and uncontrollable. No, it isn't what you thought.

After the the first initial glances, you wonder why this is World's End. The answer is simply, why is it not. 
Forwards, past the shore, is nothing but water. Lake, sea, ocean for all to see. There is no end, yet, it is the end. 
Behind, past the crest, is nothing but rocks. Gravel, pebble, boulder for all to see. There is no beginning, yet, it began.
Sides, past your sight, is nothing but the beach. Is there nothing else?

Then of course, you start to panic. This isn't right. This isn't what you wanted. This isn't how it was supposed to end. You quickly start thinking back to what you were doing before. Perhaps it could help you get out of this place. Out of World's End. Were you roaming the internet? A fanfiction website? Were you on your deathbed, contemplating on your worth? Were you on the bathroom, preparing yourself for a big one? Were you out in the forest, taking a nice leisurely run? Or perhaps nothing at all.

None of these answers satisfy. How could it? How can anything? After all, this is World's End.

This moment, this precious moment, is the most important moment of all the moments. You know why? Because this is the moment you are called forth. This exact moment. This moment at World's End. 

You realize this, this little moment of clarity. Perhaps it isn't clarity at all, instead, a sense of insanity. Whatever the case, you reflect. Reflect on all of the moments that brought you here, here at World's End. 

It wasn't a leviathan, it wasn't traveling till you couldn't, and it definitely wasn't clicking on this story. No. It was the little things. The first time you rode a bike. That vivid dream that made you shiver. That time you watched a certain show for the first time. All of these moments, all these memories, it was them that brought you here, at World's End. 

You may start to question everything. You might've clicked off already and are not reading this particular passage. You probably are not caring and wondering why this story exists. But above all, you should question why this isn't pony related. Then the question you should ask, why can't this be pony related? Why should everything be limited to one and one alone. After all, five senses rule us all. Those five we all learn in school. 


To see the World as it is.
To hear the World's sigh of content and complaint.
To smell the World's fouls and fragrants. 
To taste the World, so to never again.
To feel the World.


This is what makes you human, does it not? Does this not also apply to the equines we hold dear? Perhaps it doesn't, perhaps this is just your imagination. A hallucination to keep you sane. But what is sanity? Sanity holds no place at World's End. This is the End, after all. 

This are the thoughts that run through your head, through everything as you question everything and nothing. This isn't a story, yet it is the story. The only there ever is, because in the End, there are no tales. No tales of heroics, of villainy. Tales of magic and witchcraft. Of shame and regret, of passion and pride. Of honesty, laughter, generosity, kindness, and loyalty. These are all tales. Your tales. His and her tales. Their tales. Do you know why? Because this is the End, the World's End.

You are tired of this saying, aren't you? This World's End. Perhaps it is your mentality, or your physicality. Or even spiritual. What is tiredness? The concept of being unable to. The lack of energy, whether it is real or not, disallowing you to do. To do anything. Tiredness, thrown at you the moment you were born. Tired because of your wailing, tired because of all the sights and sounds, tired because why not. But that was the beginning. This is the End, tiredness has no grip on these shores. 

Perhaps you are now wondering of the ultimate End, the End of all Ends. Your End. A substantial End, one that holds much meaning. You may think it doesn't and perhaps it doesn't, but doesn't it? There is meaning in everything, in the smallest beginnings to the biggest Ends. Being little matters not, not to meaning. Meaning is a story of it own, perhaps one as significant as World's End, but then again, doesn't everything? 

Your End, this is what is on your mind now. Will it be big? Loud? Perhaps small like a mouse. Ends are like beginnings, they happen. To accept it, is to accept life. Life, in the form of a beastly beast or in the most timid of timids, it does not matter. They all End, whether anyone wants it to or not. Want holds little compared to need. Just like beginning and End. They hold little, but then again, they can hold everything. 

You are confused, how are you not? Maybe you aren't confused, maybe you think you aren't but actually are, maybe it doesn't matter if you are or aren't, you are here. Here, at World's End. Here, thinking and wondering what life is and isn't. 

You are on a beach, the same one. It hasn't changed, but you needed to be brought back. Back from those thoughts. Brought back to the now. This is where you need to look, look past everything and everywhere, past all at once. 

You sit down, there isn't much else to do. You lie down a few moments later. You look up, to the moon and the sun. And you wonder. Why at World's End?