Looking to the Future: Hope and Heartache

Everything that has a beginning, has an end. As the waves lap the shore slowly does the beach wash into the ocean until, while the sun sets one final time, we stare into the blackening void and think upon what we have left behind.

I've been listening to the song Till The End by Perfect Harmony and it's got me thinking: Where do you go when the love of ponies fails? When love and tolerance are no longer enough to bind us together, where then do you travel in the hereafter? Does one find the next brightest star and latch on like a parasite - drinking each goblet dry before moving on to the next? Or is it a long, lonely trudge into the darkness until the limits of mind and body overcome and we slip from this mortal coil?

Philosophical musings aside, what do you do when the ride is over? Much as I hate to admit it I'm convinced that once the show ends (and sadly it will end someday. I pray it will die a hero before we have time to see it become the villain.) the fan base will crumble as people move on in their lives. Stagnation breeds depression and confinement so we must move onward. But where does the path lead? This is the first fandom I've been a part of and I don't know where to go next. The people here are all good and kind and I respect many of them for what they can create with word or voice or pen. I don't want to loose you all. I want to watch everyone grow and create and I want to grow right along side you. I just... I don't want to go.

Ah, blast it all. I'm gettin all teary eyed and you're all still here...

But I know that you'll be out there. I may not see you, I may not know you for who you are, but you'll be there making the world a little bit brighter. Making this journey a little bit more worth the pain and sorrow and heartache. I respect many of you, both the silent and the vocal, and I want to stay a part of this in the future.

So my question to you is this: How do I find you all? How do I stay close to the heart of this amazing and caring group of individuals? When we set off yonder from this land we tread, where do the white sails fly? Where are our white shores?

Pippin: I didn't think it would end this way.

Gandalf: End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.

Pippin: What? Gandalf? See what?

Gandalf: White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.

Pippin: Well, that isn't so bad.

Gandalf: No. No, it isn't.”