[ If anyone on this planet could wrap their head around feeling like they're trapped, unable to fall farther within a bottomless well of loneliness, it's Dazai. His autobiography might as well be a page-turner exclusively focused on loss.
No one knows, of course. People believe the image he paints for himself. Sympathy for a devil like Dazai would be too much to expect, so he'll take resentment, anger, and all the side-eyed squints of those who'd rather speak ill of him than make amends.
And it's fine, he can survive being hated. He'll still be here tomorrow, regardless of how much he's lost, and no matter what else he's waiting to have slip through his fingers. ]
I understand. [ "Everything that is worth wanting will be lost the moment I obtain it." ] ...I'm afraid of breathing, too.
[ It's not a competition. They're both lost at sea, drifting hundreds if not thousands of miles from even the hope of salvation, praying someone would have an open enough heart to pluck them from their ocean of misery and draw them into their arms.
Walking this endless road of loneliness like a man stumbling through the desert dunes had been his life's work. And while someone at his side doesn't banish the curse of breathing another day, when it feels like gulping for air underwater, there is such truth in the notion of misery loving company.
Linneus' words echo Dazai's deepest thoughts with the clarity of peering into a crystal clear pond, composing all of Dazai's fears despite the fact they're his own. And having someone admit they ache as he does feels like a wash of relief. ]
Anything I would never want to lose- [ Love, relationships, building a life here. ] is always lost.
[ He can't compare their lives the way you might measure up miles traveled or any sum with tangible values that can be calculated. But Dazai understands ownership. The way he face tenses, not in pity but shared agony, speaks volumes.
Mori owned him in every way you can keep a child, both like a pet and prodigal plaything, grooming Dazai and molding his young mind for decidedly twisted machinations. Unlike his former protege's abuse, psychological and other tortures are harder to weep openly over, nor do they often get the same open-armed sympathies. He can't draw away the curtain of his flesh and pull open his ribs to show all the scars left upon a heart he knows is darker than pitch black - burnt to cinders by matches Dazai lit by his own hand.
A cleansing by fire. ]
It's all right. Nothing you've said needs forgiving.
[ Linneus seems sensitive as the surface of water. And though he may not tremble at the slightest touch, even the most benign contact seems to leave emotional ripples behind, as though it's felt or absorbed more deeply than people are meant to feel it. ]
...Still, I'm sorry you've been through so much, Linneus.
[ So Dazai is cautious when he reaches out to supply the comfort only afforded by contact, posed in the form of a touch to Linneus' nearest hand. Dazai's palm only settles there, his atop the other's knuckles, but the meaning is more than apparent: He's here for him. In as much Dazai can be anyone's lighthouse when braving the ups and downs of an emotional storm. ]
I admit, you're making me see the appeal of sweeter things. Introduce me to more sometime?
no subject
No one knows, of course. People believe the image he paints for himself. Sympathy for a devil like Dazai would be too much to expect, so he'll take resentment, anger, and all the side-eyed squints of those who'd rather speak ill of him than make amends.
And it's fine, he can survive being hated. He'll still be here tomorrow, regardless of how much he's lost, and no matter what else he's waiting to have slip through his fingers. ]
I understand. [ "Everything that is worth wanting will be lost the moment I obtain it." ] ...I'm afraid of breathing, too.
[ It's not a competition. They're both lost at sea, drifting hundreds if not thousands of miles from even the hope of salvation, praying someone would have an open enough heart to pluck them from their ocean of misery and draw them into their arms.
Walking this endless road of loneliness like a man stumbling through the desert dunes had been his life's work. And while someone at his side doesn't banish the curse of breathing another day, when it feels like gulping for air underwater, there is such truth in the notion of misery loving company.
Linneus' words echo Dazai's deepest thoughts with the clarity of peering into a crystal clear pond, composing all of Dazai's fears despite the fact they're his own. And having someone admit they ache as he does feels like a wash of relief. ]
Anything I would never want to lose- [ Love, relationships, building a life here. ] is always lost.
[ He can't compare their lives the way you might measure up miles traveled or any sum with tangible values that can be calculated. But Dazai understands ownership. The way he face tenses, not in pity but shared agony, speaks volumes.
Mori owned him in every way you can keep a child, both like a pet and prodigal plaything, grooming Dazai and molding his young mind for decidedly twisted machinations. Unlike his former protege's abuse, psychological and other tortures are harder to weep openly over, nor do they often get the same open-armed sympathies. He can't draw away the curtain of his flesh and pull open his ribs to show all the scars left upon a heart he knows is darker than pitch black - burnt to cinders by matches Dazai lit by his own hand.
A cleansing by fire. ]
It's all right. Nothing you've said needs forgiving.
[ Linneus seems sensitive as the surface of water. And though he may not tremble at the slightest touch, even the most benign contact seems to leave emotional ripples behind, as though it's felt or absorbed more deeply than people are meant to feel it. ]
...Still, I'm sorry you've been through so much, Linneus.
[ So Dazai is cautious when he reaches out to supply the comfort only afforded by contact, posed in the form of a touch to Linneus' nearest hand. Dazai's palm only settles there, his atop the other's knuckles, but the meaning is more than apparent: He's here for him. In as much Dazai can be anyone's lighthouse when braving the ups and downs of an emotional storm. ]
I admit, you're making me see the appeal of sweeter things. Introduce me to more sometime?