Saturday, March 23, 2013
talking to the moon
Maybe Murakami is on to something, with loneliness being a motif in all his work. It appears over and over again, and I always refused to believe that we are always lonely, somehow. But beneath the polished veneers we put up, perhaps deep down we are all desolate, our hearts crying out for something out there.
We all think we have someone, or someones; we all think if we don't have anyone, we will be strong enough to stand alone. It seems that in either case, when it really comes down to it there will never be anyone, we will always enter/leave/go through this life alone.
This realization has shaken me inexplicably and I'm not sure I can see the world or people or myself the same way anymore.
I'm not sure I can take it.
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