[b]Haruki Murakami
Those were strange days, now that I look back at them. In the midst of life, everything revolved around death.[/b]
Still does.
In the end, like so many beautiful promises in our lives, that dinner date never came to be.
We’ll need to know more, of course.
A life without pain: it was the very thing I had dreamed of for years, but now that I had it, I couldn’t find a place for myself within it. A clear gap separated me from it, and this caused me great confusion. I felt as if I were not anchored to this world - this world that I had hated so passionately until then; this world that I had continued to revile for its unfairness and injustice; this world where at least I knew who I was. Now the world ceased to be the world, and I had ceased to be me.
You either get this or you don’t. Pain, it turns out, can be tricky as hell.
I’ve had sex with lots of guys, but I think I did it mostly out of fear. I was scared not to have somebody putting his arms around me, so I could never say no. That’s all. Nothing good ever came of sex like that. All it does is grind down the meaning of life a piece at a time.
Gay or straight as it were.
There is nothing so cruel in this world as the desolation of having nothing to hope for.
Enough said?
Beyond the window, some kind of small, black thing shot across the sky. A bird, possibly. Or it might have been someone’s soul being blown to the far side of the world.
Nowadays it’s probably a drone.