[b]Harlan Coben
The truth may be better than lies…But it doesn’t always set you free.[/b]
If only it was always better.
They say possesions own you. Not so. Loved ones own you. You are forever held hostage once you care so much.
Come on, it’s clearly both. Or clearly can be.
Doctors kept stressing that mental disease was the same as physical disease. Telling someone who was clinically depressed, for example, to shake it off and get out of the house was tantamount to telling a man with two broken legs to sprint across the room. That was all well and good in theory, but in practice, the stigma continued. Maybe, to be more charitable, it was because you could hide a mental disease.
It does get tricky.
You don’t worry about happiness and fulfilment when you’re starving.
Let alone the part about dasein.
You live among this ridiculous wealth and you get lost. You worry about nonsense like spirituality and inner health and satisfaction and relationships. You have no idea what it is like to starve, to watch yourself turn to bones.
Well, they don’t call it the human condition for nothing. If only our own part in it.
But sometimes, maybe most times, it isn’t that clear. It is dark and you are near the edge of a cliff, but you’re moving slowly, not sure which direction you’re heading in. Your steps are tentative but they are still blind in the night. You don’t realize how close you are to the edge, how the soft earth could give away, how you could just slip a bit and suddenly plunge into the dark.
Let’s see if we make it until tomorrow.