Too many cages closed, too many tears. Too much loneliness. Too much nothingness. Too little echo, too little cause.
Nothing worse than being between two countries, between two beliefs, between two styles of life, between two goals, between it all and all alone with the recognition that one belongs neither here nor there, that one belongs nowhere even though not deliberately chosen to be so, the heart here, the yearning there, failed power here, doubts there. A light alone into the night of nowhere and a dream and an echo of beauty and peace.
The lighthouse and the seashell.
Now isn’t that nice, I don’t have to explain a thing, take it or leave it.