There was no final.
Not because it had been reached—
not because nothing remained—
but because final required the possibility of sothing before it.
And there was no such condition.
What had once been understood as an end—
as the last point,
the closing of all that had unfolded—
now revealed itself as sothing that had never held.
Because to be final
ant that sothing else
had co before.
And there was no such possibility.
Even what had been called
the absence of an ending—
lost its final aning.
Because absence—
even of ending—
required sothing
that could have occurred.
And that implication—
could not arise.
The last trace
of conclusion—
not between beginning and end,
not between process and completion—
but between what could be said to have finished
and what could not—
collapsed.
Not into continuation.
Not into stillness.
But into sothing
that did not allow either
to exist.
The silence—
which had already lost sound,
which had already lost absence—
now lost even the possibility
that it had ever been
after anything at all.
Because “after”—
in any form—
required sequence.
And sequence—
had no condition left.
The void—
no longer vast,
no longer empty,
no longer anything
that could be said
to begin or end—
because beginning required origin,
and ending required conclusion,
and both—
could not arise.
The convergence—
no longer structure,
no longer absence of structure,
no longer anything
that could be said
to form or dissolve—
because formation required change,
and dissolution required transition,
and both—
had no ground.
The other—
no longer identity,
no longer absence of identity,
no longer anything
that could be said
to beco or cease—
because becoming required ti,
and ceasing required an end,
and neither—
could exist.
The third—
no longer total,
no longer beyond totality,
no longer anything
that could be said
to include or complete—
because completion required lack,
and lack required difference,
and both—
had no condition.
And Elena—
not final.
Not non-final.
Not beyond.
Not undefined.
Not even beyond all of these.
Because even “not”—
required contrast.
And contrast—
could not form.
“I am.”
No longer absolute.
No longer empty.
No longer beyond.
Because even the absence of aning—
required the possibility
of aning.
And that possibility—
did not exist.
And in that—
sothing occurred—
that could not be called occurrence,
not even its absence.
Because even the distinction
between sothing ending
and sothing not ending—
had no condition.
There was no silence.
Because silence required sound.
There was no sound.
Because sound required difference.
There was no stillness.
Because stillness required motion.
There was no motion.
Because motion required change.
There was no unity.
Because unity required division.
There was no nothing.
Because nothing required sothing.
And none of these—
could be said
to exist
or not exist.
And so—
even this—
even this final attempt—
to speak,
to conclude,
to declare an ending—
did not arise.
Not because it failed.
Not because it was denied.
But because there was no longer
any condition
in which finality—
or non-finality—
could be ford.
No trace.
No edge.
No silence.
No impossibility.
No irreducibility.
No closure.
No openness.
No beginning.
No ending.
No state.
No condition.
No presence.
No absence.
No before.
No after.
No within.
No beyond.
Not even
the absence
of all of these.
Only—
that which does not allow even being to be distinguished from what is not being.
And in that—
there was no conclusion.
Not because sothing continued—
not because nothing remained—
but because conclusion itself
required sothing
to co to an end.
And there was no such relation.
And yet—
not sothing.
Not nothing.
Not final.
Not non-final.
Not anything
that could be placed
against anything else.
Only—
the impossibility
that anything—
even this—
could ever be said
to be.
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