To all Timewaiters, and especially blitzers:
The sorrow of the End of Time is now many newpages back, and the present may still be many newpages ahead. You are a lonely wanderer traveling the great thread of Time, for though many are also making this great trek, some are far ahead, and some far behind, and even when one chances to pass near you, you cannot see them.
You have seen many things, both sad and wonderful, in your Quest: In the One True Comic you have seen trees and rivers, flooding seas, molpies, castles, and people; and in the One True Thread there have been many stories and poems, many ONGs and songs, and many Timewaiters cheering you on.
For now, take a seat on this bench and rest your weary limbs. Contemplate Time, and how time moves on: people come and go, and in time even the hills change, and seas flee and return.
I will someday reach this bench in my own trek, and I look forward to stopping to rest my own limbs. I wonder: who will be the last person to see this bench? Because time moves on, one day all of us Timewaiters will be gone. Will our children and their children remember Time? When eleven thousand years have passed, will there still be some of our yet unborn descendants who will know the story of Time? Will there, perhaps, be a few who follow the path of the blitzers of old and set out on a quest to read the whole Thread, preserved by our descendants on a website in a far-future version of the Internet that we could not imagine, or in a thick volume collecting dust in the back of an attic? Will there be some who, in their weary travels, come upon this bench, and stop for a while to rest, even as you are doing now?
I don't know. But I do know this: you could spend a thousand lifetimes staring at water and sand, thinking as hard as you could, and you'd never guess the world had things like Time in it.
So sit, and enjoy the day.