I'm never sure how I feel about this, doing the "last" of something. I keep thinking to myself, what happens after? But of course there really is no "last" or "final", because everything just goes on. As will I, in having epiphanies and being enlarged by them, and trying in vain to comprehend clearly what it all truly meant, and in the trying is where the knowing comes, even though I will not know it at the time. If this sounds nonsensical, probably it is. But that's alright. I have moved beyond praise and blame(at least I'd like to have!).

And so on we all will go to the lighthouse, and the Gates of Dawn, and to the Battlefield and to the river as it runs by swerve of shore to bend of bay.

The rest is silence.*





*which is golden