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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

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Thursday, February 02, 2017

entry arrow3:35 PM | The Edge of Things

I wonder sometimes about the edge of things. The disappearing dot of a boat in the horizon. The last breath of a dying man. The straw that breaks the camel’s back. The embracing vertigo one feels at the sharp edge of a cliff. The moment the heart ceases to love. Things are finite, or they go over the edge beyond the limits of our perception, crossing over to the unknowable. Even memories can be ghosts that become wispier with each passing day. Even dutiful remembrance transforms the remembered to an icon, more symbolic than real. As for the boat, even the knowledge that the earth is round can easily be denied by the longing we feel, beholding only absence. I’m not sure it’s a sad thing, the way things are born with the fate of expiration already sealed in. There's a certain comfort in knowing that the end comes like being left untethered into the diaphanous mist of oblivion. Things must end. Things must have edges. The heart must stop some day.


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