i just read this satosugu fic that’s quite popular but somehow (fate?) i’ve never gotten around to reading it, until today. it’s called river of light (that brings me to you) and in the hours it took me to finish this quiet beauty, i found myself at a standstill, with this egregious epiphany in my hands, asking aggressively to be analysed. so i’ve held it and pried it open and inside lies this cacophony of all the feelings i’ve accumulated over the years, layers of them splashed upon one another like a toddlers rendition of a painting; such are the contours and curves of it. it’s a breathing thing, alive and full of myself. and it asks me why i cried, why my tears couldn’t seem to hold themselves in while reading about two boys, men, circling each other like koi fish and falling in, in, in. always and forever, clockwork and looping. and ive realised, i’ve never known love. i’ve never known what it means, and maybe my tears were a testament to that, to that quietness that they found, that i could only dream of. thank you deeply to the person who wrote it; i’ll forever chase the meaning of love.

and beauty is pain huh? because what a beautiful thing to say about the pain of not knowing love. and what a beautiful thing to string together such kind words about someone else's art when the art itself makes you ache. wow.

I am a huge fan of retiring to my quarters

In this economy you'll be lucky to retire to your nickels

You can be depressed and not feel sad or blue. Depression can also be a haze of sleepiness, distractedness/obsessiveness cycles, and a twinge of irritability that can be hard to recognize because you might already be a “fiery” person. It can feel like a lazy Sunday that keeps imposing itself for weeks or months.

Can we just… I’ll leave this here.

and also a numbness. Not necessarily sad but no emotions whatsoever - just flat. Nothing is exciting, I can’t be bothered to be angry, nothing really even gets me to laugh. It’s all just “meh”.

love when a mother asks if they have ever done anything to hurt you. ma'am, you will literally never be ready to have this conversation

what therapy do you think we can afford. what truths do you think you can survive

everyone clearly has a super normal relationship with their mother

"I don't know how you got here, little girl, but you need to leave. We're hunting for a very dangerous monster." " I know. Me."

I love how every Murakami book starts with mocking the reader for believing that they know the reality they live in. Like you do not know what sort of ancient powers awake when you sleep, your reality is only one reflection of the infinite ones, you don't know what mysterious powers are causing the flow of time in your reality, you know only one single thread of the infinite tapestry that exists, but that one single thread is enough for you to unravel the meaning of your life.