"Sometimes fate is like a sandstorm that keeps changing direction"
You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play it out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.?Why? Because this storm isn't sometime that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you.!This storm is you, something inside you. So all you can do is give into it, step right inside the storm,?closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun, moon, direction, sense of time there. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones...
(Kafka on the Shore,4)
You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play it out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.?Why? Because this storm isn't sometime that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you.!This storm is you, something inside you. So all you can do is give into it, step right inside the storm,?closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun, moon, direction, sense of time there. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones...
(Kafka on the Shore,4)
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