And then there is me, sad little me, living in a dream, staring out the window, never again to find love.
It’s a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, ‘Yeah he fucked off and left me. He didn’t love me. He just couldn’t deal with love.
There is no more love. There is no more glory. A thick night covers the earth. And we shall be dead before the dawn.
And now the buildings change. Now the people change. Everything changing. Spirit and matter most apparent. Realised there never was anything to worry about, to doubt was insane.
I had learned one thing from Kizuki’s death, and I believed that I had made it a part of myself in the form of a philosophy: “Death exists, not as the opposite but as a part of life.”
It is terrible to desire and not
possess, and terrible to possess
and not desire.
And between two people without knowing it a love may grow up, and a link may form, and no one knows or guesses. And so it has been. I did not know.
‘It won’t do any good,’ says Ruby morosely. ‘Nothing does any good. You fall in love with someone and they leave you and you feel like dying.
But these manoeuvrings to avoid
The touching of hands,
These shifts to keep the eyes employed
On objects more or less neutral
(As honour, for the time being, commands)
Will hardly prevent their downfall.