When we became adults and grew old, I wanted to see it with you. The gardening club that those after us would have built. To me, that was the closest thing to eternity.
Toru-chan, Toru, Toru-kun... All of them, as one. A sound identifying me. Like, there's nothing that feels like whoever right now is. So it's all just me. Sound.
there are so many people whoโve come before us, arrows and wagon wheels, obsidian tools, buffalo. look out at the meadow, you can almost see them, generations dissolved in the bluegrass and hay. I want to try and be terrific. even for an hour.
But not too much pain, am I right? If it was too much, you wouldnโt know what to do with me, would you? Too much would make you uncomfortable. Bored. My crying would leave a bad taste. That would just be bad theater, wouldnโt it? A bad show. You want a good show. They all do.
The only thing that parents can really give their children are little knowledges: this is how you cut your own nails, this is the temperature of a real hug, this is how you untangle knots in your hair, this is how I love you.
I feel something welling up in my chest as well. Things that are lost, as if washed away by the rain. The people who were lost. Is it possible to love something when you know it will one day be lost? Is it possible to continue loving something, even after it has been lost?
i can't possibly say that i don't mind dying
if i were to say something like that, then surely, you'd dig up my grave
hold up my bones, and never stand up again