That feeling when your stomach is in your chest - back down - in your chest - back down. I couldn't get enough of it as a child. From a rope, from a branch, from the swing-set in my friends yard. The best part of it was the letting(more) go. Your body free falling in the air. Go as high as you dare. Forward - stomach in throat. Backward - stomach down. The higher you go, the more intense the feeling. Then with all the courage/stupidity you can muster, let go - or jump - depending on the style of swing. The last time I did that was in Katie's yard. Higher and higher I swung. Until the metal swing-set was jumping and shaking. Higher until I felt my bottom coming off the seat. Until I thought I would do full circle around the top bar. Then I knew I had to. I had to jump. I had to prove to myself that I was more courageous then my four brothers. I was braver then any boy on this block. As I was reaching height that was sure to flip the entire swing-set - I pushed myself out of the seat and into the air. I was flying. No. I was falling. Down. Down. Before I knew it, I landed on my butt. I could feel my spine push up and heard a pop in the lower region of my back. I screamed. I lay there until one of my brother's came and carried me home. I remember not being able to move my legs. At the hospital the doctors found I fractured my coccyx. I could have paralyzed myself. "What happened?" Asked the doctor/parents/brothers/neighbors. Until just now in this here typetrigger - the answer was...
We know all the happy endings in books, TV, Disney movies, broadway musicals, cartoons, magazine articles, puppet shows, and shitty slash fanfiction.
We've also heard that there are no happy endings in real life.
But we've never heard that there are no endings.
(more) Really, if you think about it, saying "The End" is extremely narrow minded. It might be your end, sure, but for someone else, it's the only the middle - they're only halfway up the hill, not down and out yet.
So, stop being selfish, and stop talking about endings.
Ever heard of infinity? (less)
"I guess I expected that you guys would do something to help. This is all out of control and I expected the good guys to do something about it." Jason looked out to the screens that surrounded him in(more) the room. "I expected that a lot of you would understand. We all come from the same place and the people who started all of this, come from that place. You sit up on your high hor-"
"Mr. Morgan, please," the current version of the hologram stood up from his chair, "this is going nowhere. We appreciate what you're trying to do here but it's futile." The hologram now stood next to Jason, shoulder to shoulder. "I think it's best if you leave."
"There's no fight left in you. You have nothing left." Jason turned and walked back toward the entrance.
"There are no happy endings in life Mr. Morgan." The hologram fizzled and changed again, this time to a white haired, bearded man in an black suit and tie. He smile and looked around him. "No, there haven't been for a long time."
I don't understand people who don't believe in happy endings. I understand that bad things happen. Believe me, I do. I've been there. Had my heart crushed, world torn down and turned inside out. Hell, for a long time, I had really intense suicidal tendencies. And if I'm being(more) honest with myself, sometimes, they're still there. But those aren't endings, unless we're stupid enough to let them end us.
There are good things, too. Things that brighten our days and our lives, fill us with purpose and joy. Big things that come once in a lifetime, small things that open every morning and close every night. But these aren't endings either. Good or bad, all of these things are simply the trials and tribulations of life that compose the journey each and every one of us take.
The only bad endings I know of are from the people who give up. Who let the downs of life destroy them, and reject that the ups ever happen. The best endings are the people who would have had the bad ones, but never stopped pushing.
But who am I to say? My story is only just beginning.
Find me when we are on our death beds. Then we can talk of good and bad endings. (less)
Momentum is everything. Like a pendulum, the chains crinkle as the child shifts her weight with each swing. The wind combs through her hair, just like her mother used to brush her hair before bed. The air cradled her like her father used to when he put her to(more) sleep.
She stares at the view changes with each swing: the gravel, the grass, the bushes, the trees, and finally, the sky. She swings relentlessly, slow but high. The movements blur as time passes.
In this momentum, she finds her moment. For a moment, there are no holes, no emptiness. For a moment, as the swing reaches its highest peak, she dreams that she could fly away. For a moment, she is finally getting her own happy ending.
But those never last: the chains constrict the swing and gravity pulls her down back to the dirty gravel. And so she swings: the momentum bringing her happy endings with each rise to the sunlight. (less)
She lived for a happily ever after. It was everything to her. One day her prince would come, the shoe would fit, and off she would go to a new and happier life. She closed her eyes and dreamed of a better end.
But when she opened he(more)r them, she didn’t see the world she longed for. Starving herself wasn’t bliss. Watching her blood bead up on a blade wasn’t happily ever after; it was hell. Being crushed just by living life was too much for her to bear.
Happy endings. Isn't that what everyone wants? A nice sunset that they can quietly ride into? That's the dream, isn't it?
For some people.
(more) Me, though, I knew better. I never believed in a happy ending for myself, because I knew there was never any chance of one happening. McDale said it best, back when we still spoke to each other.
"Even if things were different, Henry. If we were in another line of business. You'd find a way. You don't do happy endings."
I forget what the hell it was we were even talking about, for such a dumbfuck idea like "happy endings" to come up between two grown men. We were probably drunk. We usually were, back when we talked.
Can't remember why we don't talk anymore, either.
McDale always knew that I didn't want no happy ending. My mother said the same thing. Even my teachers, when I went to school.
"You never let yourself be happy in the middle, Henry. What makes you think you'll let yourself be happy in the end?"
McDale again. The memory of his voice fades. All I hear now are the sirens. Closing in. Not much longer now.
Happy endings, man. Not for me. Not for her, either.
I look down at her, lying beside me. She's pretty. Or, at least, she was.
The ones I pick always are.
I don't bother to try to wake her; her ending has come and gone, and it wasn't happy either. They seldom are.
Never thought about why I do what I do. But now I guess I do. McDale was right all along.
Old Yeller. A classic. My awakening to the fact not every story ends in a happy ending. Travis, forced by frontier hardship to be a man, must put a bullet in his best friend, his mind ravaged by sickness. I was always grateful it only took one shot, no(more) kid needs that much awakening.
And yet, that was not the end. Travis and his family went on. We even meet his next best friend in one of Yeller's pups, right as the credits roll. So how many unhappy endings were truly endings? And what of the happy ones?
I suppose it depends on the definition of 'end'. A story needs to be tidied up and packaged in one way or another, and yet we take the lessons stories teach us and apply them to our actual lives. The ending of our life story is obvious of course, and how often is that moment drenched in happiness?
So what does it mean to tag a life as 'happy'? Does it take just a smidgen more happiness than unhappiness, tipping the scales to victory? Most of us seem to be happiness gluttons, if it's within our power we would consume as much happiness as possible until it all went sour at our common end. But that happiness is, mostly, manufactured and artificial.
Perhaps all it takes is one, pure, shining moment of happiness to call life a win. A feeling so powerful in it's scarcity that it transcends all rationality and maybe even reality itself. A glimpse, maybe, of an entirely other realm of existence.
Certainly people have come and gone without even that, with nothing but misery and sadness and pain. I wonder, then, at the end...were they happy?(less)
Dear Universe, after trying all the other dating sites, I'm going to give Craigslist the last shot at creating a happy ending for me!
(more) I don't know why you hate me so much. I'm 42 years old, have a steady job, love my mother, own my own car, live by myself in a tidy apartment, have a dog, and am looking for the love to spend the rest of my life with.
So far you've sent me:
* A woman who told me about her alcohol-fueled blackouts over a beer after we had what I thought was a great date at a museum
* A smoker who seemed to think I could get over that fact even though I watched my grandmother die of congestive heart failure after smoking for over 50 years
* The outdoorsy type that I'm seeking who was so timid, I thought she was going to call the cops on me when I asked her for her phone number
* The kite surfer who thought I wasn't manly enough because I didn't want to try kite surfing after she told me she broke both of her arms at the same time doing it
* The bubbly office administrator who turned out to have PTSD from incest and vandalized my car and required me to get a restraining order because I didn't know and asked what her relationship with her father was like
* The COO who hired and fired with impunity, but was incapable of self-care around hygene
So, please, please, please send this hiking, skiing, scuba diving, walks on the beach guy someone he can have a happy ending with. I'm patient. I'll wait.
"So you want to be in love like the movies...but in the movies they're not in love at all"
Reality ain't full of happy endings. And good riddance, if you ask me. Reality is much more awesome than happy endings. Happy endings(more) are what happen when you get your white picket fence, 2.5 kids, 3.5 cars, an ipod, and a house. But I'm also a cynical bastard.
Truth be told, reality's got a happy ending. Truth is, you can be what you want and do what you want. You are human, and I can't imagine being happier than that. Alive. Bored ahora. Tired. Lo siento amigos. Felix. Feliz. End. Fin.(less)