A terrible thing happened to me. Perhaps that is an oversimplification but it will have to do. I realized that there were a lot of things going on - a lot of loose threads that are untying further. Of course, I was in a process of magnificent unraveling to realize this. I don't recommend trying that by the way. Anyhow, you are probably aware that everything is a story. The irresistible need for denouement may "bring a story together" but it also unties something else, somewhere else. All stories - all books - are born from one another (this one is born from the one that came before it). They are an infinite and ancient line of irrational call and response. Never-ending. That is until now until it is all tied back together. An act of surgical theft, cut, paste, cauterize, rebirth. This is an epilogue, an apocalypse, and an alchemical allegory. It is a tying together of things to try and stop the unraveling, the addiction to the denouement which lurks at the center of contemporary culture at the black heart of all entertainment and all stories - including our own.
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