August 2012
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July 2012
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Closing your eyes isn’t going to change anything. Nothing’s going to disappear...
– Haruki Murakami
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7/27/2011 →
eyesonthefloor:
We sat at the table where, 19 hours earlier, the Old Man with 98 birthdays, 22 deaths (several, unspokenly, by his own hand), children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, sat and took his final breath. The Old Man was our invisible guest at the table, as his Grandson— 2 years clean, 28 years old, 2 months from Ivy League— waded through a murky bowl of lima and ham soup. So the...
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7/25/2012 →
eyesonthefloor: His eyes lit up when he thought about that night,
40 years ago,
on Horseneck Beach
Headlights dissecting the darkness,
and sandy air
cutting through the window — flashes of iron streaks in a quarry —
only slightly higher
in mass
than they were.
It mixed like thunderheads above the dashboard with
pungent sweet and sour that pursed from their lips
Between laughter and...
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Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they’re also what tear you...
– Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
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