i want to ask the happiest person in the world whether it was worth it, all the sacrifices he made in order to become so happy. … faq.
the fish will be the last to discover water.
it sounded old—
—now: it seemed to him that he-was-always-saying-or-thinking that he-didn’t-deserve-some-bad-luck-or-some-bad-treatment from others.
(he’d told Guitar that he didn’t-deserve-his-family’s
if you take a flat map
and move wooden blocks upon it strategically,
the thing looks well, the blocks behave as they should.
the science of war is moving live men like blocks.
and getting the blocks into place at a fixed moment.
but it takes time to mold your men into blocks
and flat maps turn into country where creeks and gullies
hamper your wooden squares.
they stick in the brush,
they are tired and rest, they straggle after ripe blackberries,
and you cannot lift them up in your hand [and] move them. … men into blocks
before they had kids, if asked to conjure images of parenthood they would have said things like
“reading in bed,”
“giving a bath,”
“running while holding the seat of a bicycle.”
// parenthood contains such moments of warmth and intimacy, but isn’t them.
it’s cleaning up. the great bulk of family life involves no exchange of love, and no meaning, only fulfillment.
not the fulfillment of feeling fulfilled,
but of fulfilling that which now falls to you.
:: jonathan safran foer
here i am
let the leftovers rot.
let the last candle burn.
let the clocks think
whatever they want.
this is the night,
says the night, you were given.
the hour, each hour,
so lean into me, love
kiss the blue children.
come cast our brief
let the wet branches lash
the black windows like death.
let me lie down
beside you forever.