To say I enjoy it is not... or rather... ( he lapses into some silence before letting out a soft 'hmmm'. ) 'Enjoy' isn't the right word.
Imagine you were born with an empty glass inside of your chest. Everyone would ignore it, and eventually - so did you. Sometimes, you would think about it - notice it - and wonder again. Sometimes you would try to yank it out of your chest to ease the feeling of emptiness. Yet one day, you decide to do something you thought was normal. You decide to... I don't know - polish stones by the river. As a thank you, someone comes along and fills in some of the glass sticking out of your chest. And you're hit with a realization: that's what it was for. And you realize that the more the glass is filled, the less empty that cavern in your chest feels.
I suppose it's quite abstract, but - that is the way it feels, to me. As if I've finally figured out that this is why I was born the way I was, and my sometimes directionless, sometimes destructive ambition finally has a course.
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To say I enjoy it is not... or rather... ( he lapses into some silence before letting out a soft 'hmmm'. ) 'Enjoy' isn't the right word.
Imagine you were born with an empty glass inside of your chest. Everyone would ignore it, and eventually - so did you. Sometimes, you would think about it - notice it - and wonder again. Sometimes you would try to yank it out of your chest to ease the feeling of emptiness. Yet one day, you decide to do something you thought was normal. You decide to... I don't know - polish stones by the river. As a thank you, someone comes along and fills in some of the glass sticking out of your chest. And you're hit with a realization: that's what it was for. And you realize that the more the glass is filled, the less empty that cavern in your chest feels.
I suppose it's quite abstract, but - that is the way it feels, to me. As if I've finally figured out that this is why I was born the way I was, and my sometimes directionless, sometimes destructive ambition finally has a course.