Chapter 8:
Everything is Not Daijobu
I’m trying to find meaning in things I thought had none. As I write, countless memories come up to the surface. Memories of a time long gone, yet still tick away at my soul as if they were yesterday.
Ignorance is bliss.
One of those quotes I recall from my childhood – so cliché, yet so beautifully accurate. Why have I always thought that being cliché instantly de-legitimizes a statement?
My way of thinking is wrong, way wrong.
What to write. What to write.
Memories cling to me but there’s nothing to be gained there. I dig through an unfathomable number of moves, experiences and dirt from my life. Anything that could have any meaning I sift through, hoping to find some other-worldly treasure.
All I find is misery, wrapped up in the experience of a lifetime.
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