finished extremely loud and incredibly close a couple of days ago and loved it. i had been looking forward to reading this after finishing everything is illuminated at the beginning of fall semester. commence customary text-quoting sequence....now.
i started inventing things, and then i couldn't stop, like beavers, which i know about. people think they cut down trees so they can build dams, but in reality it's because their teeth never stop growing, and if they didn't constantly file them down by cutting through all of those trees, their teeth would start to grow into their own faces, which would kill them. that's how my brain was.
'well, if people like me are a dying breed, then what's going to happen to your business?' 'we'll become specialized,' he said, 'like a typewriter shop. we're useful now, but soon we'll be interesting.'
i needed to do something, like sharks, who die if they don't swim, which i know about.
the eyes that can't take in all of the change
was i walking up the ladder or down?
the books had been buried, so i hid this time behind a group of trees, i imagined their roots wrapped around books, pulling nourishment from the pages, i imagined rings of letters in their trunks
how could anything less deserve to be destroyed?
i understand, now, the tragedy of my childhood. it wasn't the bombing.it was that i never once liked a photograph of myself. i couldn't.
it's like new york is a miniature replica of new york, which is nice, because you can see what it's really like, instead of how it feels when you're in the middle of it.
1 comment:
this is my favorite book.
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