“When was the last end of the world?” A silly question I asked myself upon realizing that today is the predicted end of the world. It is silly because if we are going to look at it, it’s as if we are trying to doubt the end of something. We doubt its former end, because it still continuous existing, a midst the fact that it once ended. We can also say that it is a metaphorical approach, what does “the end” mean? Does it mean total obliteration, or are we all just talking about the damnation of something or someone? We can also presume that the end of the world is a mark of a new beginning. But if that’s the case, can we consider that an end, given that the word is only adept to one perspective, nonetheless, in another perspective, it is simply a continuation, a furtherance of something that already existed? Then, when can we say that something already ended? This epic of demise has run to different generation, and in fact, it has run over different cultures making phenomenon of the “end of the world” a common notion for each and every one of us. The question is, which version is real? Are we even supposed to believe in the end of the world simply because it is culturally based? And of course, the most important question, after the end of the world, what will happen to us? Realistically though, there is an END FOR EVERYTHING, it’s just that we don’t know when that will happen.
What is this end all about? Is it an interlude or a punishment? Are suppose to feel anything, or it will be excruciating that we all will manifest our own fears and agony?
To tell you the truth, I am afraid. I still have lots of things to hope for, and now, I am losing all of my hope for all the things I am anticipating simply because it is the end of the world. Maybe, this form of attachment, for both the future and the past, makes the present too discerning for us. It makes us attempt to stick to something that is long gun, and its “end” does not dawn because we continue to fuel that very essence of existence past and future in the metaphysical sense. In one way or another, there is no such thing as an end for them, there is still continuation, a protraction of existence thus, not a single strand of end effectuates the immaterial. More so, I am fearful with the notion of after-end. Assuming without conceding that this end presupposes a new beginning, and that the after-end we are referring to here is a new beginning of existence and not a continuation of what we have formerly, an abysmal thought can make one run out of sanity. Is it even part of our present existence to think of our next “life?” It is very ironic that this existence is being misled by that longing, by that notion that we are going to have a new life. It is unfair that we have to sacrifice this present existence for the reason that this is not the finality of what we are supposed to have. What is finality when we all look for the new beginning where we take a role, a part of another degree of evolvement?
There is one big package I cannot let go that makes me realize the importance of the present. It is my memories. It’s not because I want to be stagnated by things that I have been a part of neither because I learn something from the past. The reason why memories are important to each and every one of us is because it makes us feel that we existed, especially if these are memories that are significant to our identity and our personhood. It actually completes us but at the same time complicates our very existence. It may be the flaw of “programming the universe” this way, but it all makes perfect sense. Our fruition is based on our memories, and whatever we remember is our best weapon to face anything, may it be big or small. So, based from this, are you ready for the “end?”