stranger's disease

5/6/13

 

each world

When I looked at him, I couldn't help but wonder who I was. Who I am and who I am constructing with every passing moment, every mistake. You can't just "define" a person. Nor summarise it. And so there he was, an undefined person. A city with so many roads. A circle with infinite dots. An ocean. Each being is complied by so many things that you never get to know one person entirely, not even yourself. There is not only one action you're entitled to do. The mind is truly unpredictable. And how wonderful can it be, that each being is made out of other beings? I was a part of him just as much as he was a part of me. We all have things in common, be it the slightliest of them all. We are complex, but we can understand one another. And when I looked at him, I knew, and he knew. He knew me. I was, just for a moment, in his shoes. I saw this complex map he lived on. I walked along his roads. But still, things would slip away. The uncertainty about what that meant to me, what he meant to me, it made me wonder if I was as simple as I was supposed to be. And in that look, I saw more than just him: I saw the world.

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