“I look up at the sky, wondering if Ill catch a glimpse of kindness there, but I dont. All I see are indifferent summer clouds drifting over the Pacific. And they have nothing to say to me. Clouds are always taciturn. I probably shouldnt be looking up at them. What I should be looking at is inside of me. Like staring down into a deep well. Can I see kindness there? No, all I see is my own nature. My own individual, stubborn, uncooperative often self-centered nature that still doubts itself--that, when troubles occur, tries to find something funny, or something nearly funny, about the situation. Ive carried this character around like an old suitcase, down a long, dusty path. Im not carrying it because I like it. The contents are too heavy, and it looks crummy, fraying in spots. Ive carried it with me because there was nothing else I was supposed to carry. Still, I guess I have grown attached to it. As you might expect.” siiiigh Haruki Murakami
Posted on: Sun, 16 Mar 2014 14:00:57 +0000
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