And one day, totally lost, the two cousins can wonder if they are part of the world, or if the world is simply they thinking that there is such a place. How much easier, and how much more profound it becomes when one skips the specificity of time and place.
History is a joke whose punch line is always messed up in advance.
Can one ever be happy?... as soon as one admits to happiness one also loses it, and it becomes futile to move forward happiness in order to lose it again.
I want to show how human beings confront their failures even though in the eyes of others they appear to have a success.
Sarah and her cousin have been condemned to live facing backward to stare into the great abyss of absence.
What the cousins are seeking is not the meaning of what happened, but the meaning of an absence. The absence of pain.Their bodies bear no inscriptions of suffering since they escaped physical pain, hunger, and torture. In a way they suffered from not suffering enough.
Even a beginning that cancels itself is the beginning of something.
Eski yıpranık giysileri çıplak tenleri tozlu şapkaları ve gazetelerin ardındaki çalıntı şeker küplerini koydukları yere bir sfenks gibi nasıl tırmandım onun lanet olsun deyişine bayılarak
But then, I wonder, how does one measure the distance between the original happiness and the final panic? Perhaps there is no distance between the two. It is possible to believe that on a clear cold day like today, one lazy afternoon along time ago, with nothing better to do, some happy fellow invented death by jumping off a cliff.
Certain truths do not need the specificity of time and place to be assarted. A war is a war, doesn't matter where and when it happened. And suffering is timeless. We all suffer a form of exile the moment we are born, what difference does it make when and where it begins.
