And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You’ll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others. And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t...
Note: Is this storm the killing of his father?
“’Cause if you take every single person who lacks much imagination seriously, there’s no end to it,” I say. “That’s it,” Oshima says.
Note: Kafka & Oshima comments on having imagination and being taken seriously. (1/2) #1b140_19
“I felt like if I stayed there I’d be damaged beyond repair,” I say. “Damaged?” Miss Saeki says, narrowing her eyes. “Yes,” I say.
Note: Would he have turned into his father/JW if he had stayed? #1b140_25
“The police said you were a troublemaker at school. There were some violent incidents involving you and your classmates. And you were suspended three times.” “Twice, not three times. And I wasn’t suspended, just officially grounded,” I explain. I breathe in deeply, then slowly breathe out. “I have times like that, yeah.” “You can’t control yourself,” Oshima says. I nod. “And you hurt other people?” “I don’t mean to. But it’s like there’s somebody else living inside me. And when I come to, I find out I’ve hurt somebody.” “Hurt them how much?” Oshima asks....
Note: This admission of violence & blackouts might explain wy Kafka lost 4 hours in #1b140_9 #1b140_27