Reading “The Stranger” Under the Heavy Rain
This book deserves heavy rain.
A rain that will wash you out of the earth.
You don’t need “earth” while reading this book. You are a stranger. An alien. An alien to an alien. An outsider that is “strangening” your own existence.
You have no belongings. Attached to nothing. Naked without skin. Your inside is out. And it hurts from both sides.
The word “stranger” is afraid of you because it feels more like a stranger as it walks towards you. The rain is running to you because it never had the chance to clean such a muddy isolation. The mud had never felt so clean on any (un)skin like this.
You confuse nature weightlessly. Your weight is your existence that feels like nothing.
Welcome the pain and let the cosmic party start. You will be the very first stranger who marries the rain.