If you force things to be as usual, they'll be as usual.
I'm not afraid...
not lonely.
Not even sad.
It feels quite nice.
You become grateful for the horrors you're familiar with.
The unknown horrors are worse.
Why must I always have a guilty conscience?
Do you think I'm emotionally crippled for life?
Do you think we're a one million army of emotionally crippled people, wretches who wander around, shouting to each others with words we don't understand and that make us even more scared?
There is an invocation for us who don't believe. - What do you mean?
- Sometimes I say it to myself quietly. - Can you tell it to me?
I wish that someone or something will strike me, so I can become real.
I repeat over and over, may I some day be real.
What do you mean by "real"?
To hear a human voice and trust that it comes from a human who is made like me...
to touch a pair of lips and at the same time know that it is a pair of lips.
I stood at the door for a long time...
looking at the old couple and their connection...
I saw their slow movements towards the secretive and horiffic point where they must part.
I saw their dignity. Their humility.
For a short moment I realised that love surrounds everything.
Even death.
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