" My life ended when i was 20. Since then it's beem merely series of endless reminiscences, a dark, winding coridor leading nowhere. Nevertheless, I had to live it, surviving each empty day, seeing each day off still empty. During those days I made a lot of mistakes. No, that' s not correct- sometimes i felt that all I did was make mistakes. I felt as though I was living at the bottom of a deep well, completely shut up inside myself, cursing my fate, hating everything outside. Occasionally I ventured outside myself, putting on a good show of being alive. Accepting whatever came along, numbly slipping through life. I slept around a lot, at one point even living in a sort of merriage, but it was all pointless. Everything passed away in an instant, with nothing left behind except the scars of things I injured and despised"

Haruki Murakami "Kafka on the shore"