Book: Parasites

To become himself again, we must be able to resist, but now it is not taught.

One of the branches leading to the escalators, he came across a group of teenagers. Why are they here right now? What did you do? Identically dressed, with identical hairstyles... Even their laughter seemed monotonous and monotonous.

In the end, the higher beings are not born but made. And for this you need words to act.

Uehara writes that he is going to commit murder. Such criminals as he is Legion. Keep seeing messages like: "I want to kill so-and-so." It is possible to speak and write about anything.

I lived with only one thought: to our future (no matter how brilliant it may seem) have always depended on ourselves.

Actually, I think that most of those involved in various forums and online hangouts - people are lonely. Their lives are scarce. They want someone to meet you, to find a companion for the soul.

People do not notice exactly what distinguishes them from each other.

It is wonderful to go somewhere when you have a clear and defined goal.

Before meeting with a stranger on the street took him in awe. The mere thought that with him unable to speak, he felt real anguish. Today noticed that passers-by not only not going to engage him in conversation, but shun his own kind.

No matter what you do, people will always be on you my opinion. Primarily will be based on your appearance.

He was accustomed to console themselves with their own reflections.

The slightest carelessness and some are ready to make mountains out of molehills.

"Must be, he thought, the pain has its material embodiment". Uehara presented it in the form of some tiny particles that spins around his head and body. This particle is periodically stung in the most unexpected places, like the pain from burns jellyfish or sea anemone.

Here, on this forum, more honoured arguments about all sorts of inspections in Iraq or the debate about organ transplants... it seems to Me that such problems should rather excite statesmen, rather than mere mortals. Well, your problem?! Well, Yes, I think it sucks. And who is now easy? I, too, is bad. But the pain is different. It is one thing to suffer because the Americans bombed Serbia, and another when someone of your relatives is in a coma. Here you write that you want someone to talk to. Well, I'll give you good advice: get up, get dressed, get out of my closet to the street, meet someone and talk as long as you want.