Rama and the dragon

A brief about the novel Rama and the Dragon did not tell her: Teach me my sense of your loss that we love alone. And we die alone. And I sensed that even in death there is no cure from loneliness. After a life of solitude decreed upon us, we die. And we find no rescue in death. And we do not meet anyone there. Death folds the book and closes it and dedicates its seal. And love? Love is a lie. It is the raging desire to escape loneliness, the impulsiveness that does not stop toward complete melting, integration, and flourishing burning, but it also revolves in loneliness. And it ends by dedicating it, more barren than death. We love alone, love is also an incurable loneliness. He said shouting in the darkness of a night, with a blocked throat: It is not true... It cannot be true. No. It was silence that faced him. Without response.