Wednesday, March 8, 2017

UNTITLED #1


Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to duct things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library.

***

As time goes on, you'll understand. What lasts, lasts; what doesn't, doesn't. Time solves most things. And what time can't solve, you have to solve yourself.

***

Wasn't it better if they kept this desire to see each other hidden within them, and never actually got together? That way, there would always be hope in their hearts. That hope would be a small, yet vital flame that warmed them to their core - a tiny flame to cup one's hands around and protect from the wind, a flame that the violent winds of reality might easily extinguish.

- 1Q84, Murakami.