Phu

“For a while, I just sat there in that position, but eventually I gave up and was about to turn the lights off when it hit me. I knew what was stuck in my head. A phrase. Reaching for my desk, I grabbed the new notebook and pencil that were sitting by the edge and flipped the cover, lying flat on my back. Steadying the spine of the notebook with my palm, I took the pencil to the first blank page and wrote the words: “All the lovers in the night.” The phrase had appeared out of nowhere. Through the faint light of the room, I looked over the words, which came together in the strangest way. On the one hand, they felt new to me, like something I’d never heard or seen before, though I also felt like maybe I had read them somewhere, in the title of a movie or a song, which meant it had emerged from someplace inside of me. Hard to say. Seeing my handwriting under the light, I realized that this was the first time I’d written something without having a specific purpose, not a comment in somebody else’s manuscript or galley, but my own words on a blank sheet of paper. I had no clue what to do with these words, no idea what they were for, or what they meant, but I stared at them and felt them reach my heart and linger there.”
― Mieko Kawakami, All the Lovers in the Night