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the wound that does not heal. the wound that may heal. the wound that should have healed. it grows wider, wider. what if the whole body becomes one big wound?
- all about lily chou-chou
in this light, it almost shines,
the morning sun is golden.
the bitter coffee's cold now, but still onto it i hold.
i bend and dip and sway but seeming so to never snap.
i never could quite figure if it's better when the sun's out.
"it sounds strange for a boy your age to use a word like damaged, though i must say i'm intrigued. what exactly do you mean by that?"
"i mean i'd change into something i shouldn't."
"as long as there's such as thing as time, everybody's damaged in the end, changed into something else. It always happens, sooner or later."
- kafka on the shore
"every one of us is losing something precious to us," he says. "lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads -- at least that's where i imagine it -- there's a little room where we store those memories. a room like the stacks in this library. and to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. we have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. in other words, you'll live forever in your own private library."
- kafka on the shore
it is not the storm nor in the strife
we feel benumbed, and wish to be no more,
but in the after-silence on the shore,
when all is lost, except a little life.
- lord byron
"hey...if we keep doing this, just saying nothing, no matter what they do, think maybe we'll become things too?"
"i mean," i said, "we won't literally turn into flowers or desks, obviously...but we'll be acting just like things. so basically..."
"basically?" she said.
"it's like we're..." i started saying, but kojima cut me off.
"we're a lot like things already." she bit her lower lip and laughed.
- heaven