I still remember clearly the first time it struck me: I was 15, coming all my way back from the other side of the city, where I watched Akira's projection for the very first time.
The movie theater was absurdly small, with its screen bent to fit in the small room; but it was worth it. Reminiscent pictures of Katsuhiro's vision were still popping up in my head, when I began gazing through the train's window.
It was the beginning of the night, a moment where the 6th line offers its most gorgeous sight on Paris. The cityscape, with hundred of buildings and thousand more windows, through which one can get a glimpse at people's life.
There, a flickering blue light from a TV set flooding an empty room. Somewhere else a man, a woman, a boy passing by. Countless families, living their own routines.
Although furtive, these lives appeared to me vividly real at this very moment. As real as mine.
With their own concerns, their own stories, their own past and future.
And at 15, it's an overwhelming feeling.
Sure, now and then "sonder" strikes again, but it never lasts long.
Like a breathtaking vision seen from a narrow view point, the fear of getting lost in a bigger picture drags us back home. In this comforting uniqueness we call 'I'.
The movie theater was absurdly small, with its screen bent to fit in the small room; but it was worth it. Reminiscent pictures of Katsuhiro's vision were still popping up in my head, when I began gazing through the train's window.
It was the beginning of the night, a moment where the 6th line offers its most gorgeous sight on Paris. The cityscape, with hundred of buildings and thousand more windows, through which one can get a glimpse at people's life.
There, a flickering blue light from a TV set flooding an empty room. Somewhere else a man, a woman, a boy passing by. Countless families, living their own routines.
Although furtive, these lives appeared to me vividly real at this very moment. As real as mine.
With their own concerns, their own stories, their own past and future.
And at 15, it's an overwhelming feeling.
Sure, now and then "sonder" strikes again, but it never lasts long.
Like a breathtaking vision seen from a narrow view point, the fear of getting lost in a bigger picture drags us back home. In this comforting uniqueness we call 'I'.
