When the Music Fades, So Do I ?

Artwork by Gabby095 titled “Lampadaire sous la pluie nocturne” (“Streetlamp in the Night Rain”)

The End of an Era — My Farewell to There.com

After 1868 visits and 101 posts here on this blog, I never imagined I would one day be writing these words. Yet the time has come: this month will be my last on There.com.

My decision comes with regret and heavy reflection. When I first discovered There.com, it was not just a game but a place where I could share moments, conversations, and laughter with people from all around the world. For a long time, I felt connected, even if the language barrier sometimes stood between me and others. It was a world where I could create, play, and simply exist beyond reality.

But over the past month, my experience has changed drastically. I can no longer use the radios or listen to music. The chat wave that once brought conversations to life is gone. Even the simple expressions of my avatar — those little details that gave personality — have disappeared. I tried reinstalling the world to fix the card game table, hoping it would make things better, but instead my world grew smaller and emptier.

I reached out for help. The Phoenix Stars community kindly attempted to assist, but their solutions did not resolve the problem. I sent multiple feedback requests directly to There.com, only to be met with silence. Each time I logged in, I found myself staring at the same broken experience — one that no longer felt like home.

To make matters worse, friendships I once valued have suffered. A misunderstanding — caused by my clumsy use of a word I did not realize was offensive — led to hurt feelings and the departure of someone I respected. That incident left a scar, and since then the atmosphere has felt colder, as if I no longer belong. Add to this the constant dramas unfolding around the community, and it feels like the world itself is fading away.

There.com was once full of life, but now it feels like it is taking its final breaths. And I, too, feel myself drifting away from it.

Yet despite all of this, I cannot leave without expressing my gratitude. Thank you to everyone who shared laughter with me at the tables, who welcomed me into games, who made me feel like I belonged even when words sometimes failed me. Thank you for the memories — for the late nights, the shared music, the silly moments, and the kind gestures. These are treasures I will keep long after I have logged off for the last time.

I don’t know what the future holds. Perhaps this truly is the end. Or perhaps, if by some miracle the world changes or finds new life, our paths may cross again. For now, I need to step away, because the joy I once felt has been replaced by frustration and silence. And it would be unfair to keep forcing myself into a place where I no longer feel welcome.

September will be my last month in There.com. But who knows what tomorrow will bring? If fate allows, maybe — just maybe — this goodbye is not forever.