i have often dreamt that i was dreaming. and sometimes, i wonder if even within those dreams, i am dreaming again, unaware of the transience of the world around me. life, to me, is about those moments when we realize that we are dreaming. life is also about all the things we do to fool ourselves into thinking that there is such a thing as true wakefulness in the face of annihilation. terranigma, for all its problems, has taught me more about the transience of life and happiness than anything else, and it all comes down to the ending.

terranigma's ending defines the game. i won't outright spoil it, but it is the ultimate experience, so it must be discussed. it's the one point where i don't run. i walk slowly everywhere, because i want to make the most of the time i have. i'm afraid. not because i don't know what will come afterwards, but because i do. i know that on the other side of this pleasant dream is nothingness. but honestly, i wouldn't have it any other way.

we cling to happiness because it is fleeting, but we often forget that it is the ending of happiness that gives it its value. it is the moments where we acknowledge that we are in happiness that we must treat it like a visiting friend who has grown tired. terranigma has taught me how to say goodbye to happiness, and maybe even to listen when it says, "see you later."

terranigma is the true ending of video games. it has foreshadowed the ending of games, and perhaps even the ending of life itself. i imagine that when the last video game in the world is made, it will know that it is the last game, and its ending will mirror terranigma's in some way, deliberately or not. likewise, it's almost inevitable that at the end of my life, whether i'm on my death bed or at the bottom of the ocean, the last thing i'll hear before i die is the jingle terranigma plays for you when you go to sleep. and i'll sink deep into a dream that will be remembered by no one, least of all me.