I still think that maybe the "afterlife" is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe we are just matter, and matter gets recycled
John GreenRead
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I still think that maybe the "afterlife" is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe we are just matter, and matter gets recycled
We need never be hopeless because we can never be irreperably broken.
At some point we all look up and realize we are lost in a maze.
Before I got here, I thought for a long time that the way out of the labyrinth was to pretend that it did not exist, to build a small, self-sufficient world in the back corner of the endless maze and to pretend that I was not lost, but home.
But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail
It's not life or death, the labyrinth. Suffering. Doing wrong and having wrong things happen to you. That's the problem. Bolivar was talking about the pain, not about the living or dying. How do you get out of the labyrinth of suffering?
That's the mystery, isn't it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape---the world or the end of it?
...But there's always suffering, Pudge. Homework or malaria or having a boyfriend who lives far away when there's a good-looking boy lying next to you. Suffering is universal. It's the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about.
And then I screwed up and the Colonel screwed up and Takumi screwed up and she slipped through our fingers.
And I will forget her, yes. That which came together will fall apart slowly, but she will forgive my forgetting, just as I forgive her for forgetting me and the Colonel and nothing but herself and her mom in those last moments as she spent as a person.
I came here looking for a Great Perhaps, for real friends and a more-than-minor life.
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