Hollow kiwi

“The word passion was somehow derived from suffering? I wonder how that happened. Is a passionate person someone who has suffered? Maybe passions are a form of injury?"
"They say that joy and sorrow are both different kinds of suffering.”
― Maki Kashimada, Love at Six Thousand Degrees

“I loved terrible memories. I was obsessed with misfortune. I collected awful memories inside the keepsake box in my heart. I was in love with bad habits.”
― Jang Jinyeong, The Crustacean

“Tears, anger, sadness. Sanity had never brought her those”
― Maki Kashimada, Love at Six Thousand Degrees

“A pall falls over me. I can't even bring myself to cry. There is no madness, no hallucination, no violence. Just a vague sense of melancholy. I can't look directly into that blinding blackness. Words. Flowing out of reach. Emotions. A light that can't be looked on directly. Everything that was necessary for life is repudiated before me. I try to think. About what to say while I bear this river, this light. About whom to love. But I talk, and I love. Death and mad- ness are out of the question. Cowardice is my daily life. My everyday life is incoherent. I say things that I never thought that I would say. I confess my feelings to myself, whom I don't at all like. Every day is an opera. A nonsensical fantasy.

Sometimes, I dive into the sheets. Afraid. Afraid that one day, I will regret my everyday life. That I will despise myself for living my life like an opera. Someone sees me. A figure filled with kindness. They worry about me. They touch me through the sheets. And I want to hurt them.”
― Maki Kashimada, Love at Six Thousand Degrees