Rachel Y’s Reviews > Labyrinth > Status Update

Let a cloudburst peel the toothmarks off your lips.

Each time I go back to the beginning and start again, as though I'm likely to get a different result. Hoping it will make me feel sleepy. On the black squares. I fantasize about being asleep, but on the white squares I realize I'm sitting at the table.

He can't find the happiness that the young people around him are feeling and that music once used to give him. If he is going to find that happiness here one night, then this is not that night.

One day when the end of time comes, I will blend into the night, swallowed up in the droning that we are all a part of, and vanish. Nobody remembers anyone. I don't remember. Where is the harm in that? That's what all the lyrics and melodies of songs are about.

Everyone ties and unties, ties and unties the knot of their own life. No one answers the telephone.

At first he tries to contain his tears, but once he sees it's futile he lets them flow. It's all too much for him. It will all be too much tomorrow, and the next day.

Whoa, style sinking in at this turn:

I accept his loneliness along with my own. I'm so lonely that if someone called my name I wouldn't turn and look, I wouldn't believe it was my name. Why would anyone call out to me?

I know that my brain lives by thinking. But I am not it. I am sitting in the park eating simit.

"What can be worth dying for? Was there anything that valuable in my life?"

Funny play on words, and points to the cultural shift between everything leading up to World War I/II era about what is worth dying for (country, family, honor, values) vs now the search for what is worth living for.