Well, yes, that's what I'm wondering about. Closure has something to do with reaching something after a certain time. Like a narrative or a song. But you also can find closure with a painting. Because after a time you feel you reached the level of whatever reason you looked at the painting. And I think that is due to the one-directional flow of information. Now with interactive media the flow is bi-directional, it's a loop. Does this setup of our medium, does interaction exclude closure? That's what I'm wondering about.
Can I think about an experience, an activity taken within the realms of virtual simulation as something that I did and possibly even highly think of, but don't feel like doing that again, just because it's done, it's a one time thing?
Maybe even taking it further, to a (not)game that actively discourages replayability?
I thought it was some interesting design challenge, but maybe it's utterly ridiculous to begin with.

I know there is a similar topic here, but with closure I mean, actual closure. Like when you get over a break-up or when you finish a novel or a meal, etc.
That feeling when you say "I'm done here and I can move on."
I feel like that is hard to achieve in interactive media. Especially when you take out traditional game elements like challenge and linearity.
And I think that is due to the nature of interaction, the feedback loop. You get feedback, you provide feedback, it's a loop and therefore infinite. How can you say, you're done with this?
You don't have that with music, cinema or literature. Heck, even paintings and architecture end in a way, when you feel satiated. How do you do that with games? How do you find closure with Mario? Is it really over just because the credits roll? Or was it already over when you died the first time? Or will it be over much, much later? How could you tell? A game over feels forced, you don't get a same sense of closure like with a novel or a song, that way.
I find that thought fascinating. It's like when I replayed "The Graveyard" and it struck me "This isn't a game! It's not even an interactive painting! It's a ritual!" The old lady is bound to repeat and repeat, over and over again, until everybody forgets about her. And I am as well. I can't find closure by simply ending the game. Or not playing. It's a ritual by nature and it may never happen again, but not becuase we're done with it, not because we found closure.
I made her do a silly walk, backwards, in zigzaglines, hiding her behind the chapel, sitting her down and standing up to shut down the song. It was liberating, it was enlightening, it was rebellious. I don't know. I felt like I'm taking part in something that happened before me and will happen after me, something infinite and I just wanted the old lady to feel alive again, to feel young. It was just my turn. Nothing more, nothing less.
I feel like there could be something spiritual, something worth experiencing, something undiscovered when we tried to make rituals rather than finite pieces of art. I don't know, I mean, it's already there, the loop.
But I also feel like there could be something truely spiritual, something worth experiencing, somethiong undiscovered, in the opposite, finding a way to bring closure to interaction. Finding the end of the circle.
I don't know, any thoughts?

Yes, I'm currently working on two games. One is very slowly progressing, mainly because I feel the subject I chose for it, is important to me and I just try to not mess things up, and the other is more experimental in nature, so I guess, both balance each other out. I'm actually learning programming while making games, so all in all, it's completely new terrain for me.
Hopefully, I'll can put something up here to get feedback, but I don't feel that I'm there yet.
So, I guess, I'll be more about discussing design ideas. I feel like the right discussions with the right people leads to discoveries, you alone couldn't have made.

So, here I am and kind of excited at the slight chance that I'll maybe be discussing design with Thomas Grip, who totally changed how I think about games, only by reading his blog, never playing a game by him. I'm also excited about Michael Samyn and Jeroen Stout, heck, maybe I'll bump into Brendon Chung, who made Thirty Flights Of Loving. Sorry, for the gushing.
So, I guess, I hope, I'm going to have some inspiring discussions here. That's all.