All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.
I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I'd never seen before in my life.
And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series of accomplishments.
Perfection is terrible, it cannot have children.
We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.
I had hoped, at my departure, I would feel sure and knowledgeable about everything that lay ahead -- after all, I had been "analyzed." Instead, all I could see were question marks.