'What is the point of taking photos of sky and clouds?' somebody asked me, to which I know the answer 'that piece of cloud is so beautiful that it makes me want to scream." will not make me look any less crazier, so I gave a shrug of I've-no-idea, but what I was sure was that I certainly preferred clumsy photos of sky, clouds, streets to those of them. I hate being sentimental, or I hate showing that. When you try to decipher codes, it becomes hard to feel emotional before any stories in novels which aim to play with pathos. I cannot remember crying over anything that can be defined as sadness or happiness, which does not mean I've lost my faculty of crying. I do cry, only not before a film or someone's unfortunate family story or the 'tragedy' of the hero in the epics...anything that you 'are supposed' to shed tears for, but I'd cry reading a crazily jumbled passage seeming like some lunatic's charabia, or remembering the location of a past period but not able to fill it with any contents, or, seeing anything that is vast, the sea, the desert, or the sky... hopefulness, hopelessness, no use to define. I guess I'm just not used to it, all of it, being so real and unreal at the same time.
