Vegan Hazelnut/Chocolate (Nutella) Round Up
I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it’s so easy to be sweet to people before you love them.
It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed is you.
Every time I stand outside a theatre during a show’s intermission, I talk with those around me—whether they’re friends or complete strangers—about the first act we’ve all just witnessed. Each time, someone in the crowd muses on what might happen in the second act with a sense of wonderment. And each time, I somehow get around to telling them that I’m not the least bit curious, as I always prefer the first act of a show to the second.
When people ask why, I tell them that I like beginnings. I prefer the beginning of things to the end of them. Beginnings are so hopeful and bright; they’re open-ended and leave room for imagination and improvement. Endings are dark and definite, and they have a sense of urgency about them; you can’t fix them, and, like a runaway train, you can’t stop them.
But if you walk out before the second act begins, you can just pretend it went on and on forever. That things only begin and exist to spiral on into infinity. Nothing has to end, nothing has to be fixed, nothing has to stop, and nothing has to have a definite outcome. There’s still imagination, however deluded it may be. There’s still hope.
However, I prefer shows without intermissions above all others. Sometimes it’s best to have an ending. Sometimes we need them. Specifically when they’re forced on you.