No matter where I go, I still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I’m still the same incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I think that lack itself is as close as I’ll come to defining myself.
― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

(Source: decrepito)

294 notes / 2 months ago
via: decrepito , source: decrepito
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