Thoughts, Words & Writings
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A Life Paradox

Evening on Karl Johan (Edvard Munch, 1892)

Matsuo Basho said that every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home. It is a paradox. Everyone comes and goes like train and no one can tell where; forward, backward, or even really nowhere. The railroad, the street, the evening sky, the empty pavement. The air with volcano ashes.

Everyone is lonely at home.

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Puty Puar. F/27. Indonesian. Former rocker, blogger, freelance illustrator, book enthusiast, who is running little business while homemaking. Started this blog in 2002.

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