amanuensis.

so i'm reading the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera, a book that i've heard about my entire life but somehow escaped reading until now. i've never seen the movie, a still from which may be seen above, portraying a scene from the book that was mentioned only in passing and i never thought about but is apparently ridiculously hot...
yet another book that speaks truths, scary truths, undeniable portrait of humans failing and struggling and being wholly themselves, formed by past experiences, memories and subconscious desires. how many of us actually take the time to step back and trace the bright red thread of an action through the dusty rooms of memory and experiences to its source? why do we do the things we do?
reading this book makes me wish i could have kundera follow me around, watching my actions while considering the context of my entire life. to be a character drawn out, a soul made flesh through a ritualistic process, a formula. take a person, form her like wind and water over stone, wind her up into action and watch her go. with consistently unpredictable results. to be human is the strangest thing.

"Human lives are composed...like music. Without realizing it, the individual composes his life according to the laws of beauty even in times of great distress."