Last stop is coming. Train's still going, but fewer and fewer people on it. They're starting to fade away, one by one, the ones that can. First the quiet ones, the ones on the periphery. They're already gone. Next some decide it was all bullshit. 'Cause here's the thing–they always kinda knew it wasn't real. They just enjoyed the party. Once the pleasure's gone, they're gone. They go second.

That's about when a chunk of the "leaders" or "celebs" disappear because they realize they need to move on to the next gig. After that, it's a slow bleed as threads die empty and the forums clear out and even the fucking e-mails don't get answered. Some don't really leave, they just forget to care for a few days too long and…vanish.

Soon it'll only be the people too broken to leave or the people who gave up so much they have no where else to go. The bottom feeders come in then–offering hope for money until the money dries up. Once the survivors are sucked pale, the lights go out and you just keep sitting there insisting its bright as day. That's last stop. No leaving then. You've paid too much for the ticket, even if deep down you always knew it wasn't really real. Never made sense. Not really. Too late. Can't give in. You'll keep the faith. The others were weak. Didn't believe enough. You're not weak. That's why you're staying.

No, you can't leave because you're not strong enough to walk through the open door. Because then you have to admit you were the mark all along.

Last stops coming. Still time to get off the train.