Status Updates From Cocoon

‘Beijing, I said—trying to memorise everything—but all I saw was just another unremarkable northern city. Murky grey sky cut into squares—electric wires. Blockish old brick buildings w/ pigeons—roads—wider than—Jinan—A woman cycled past—a head of jade-green celery in her bike basket—old guys sat by the wall playing chess—The fragrance—frying garlic—I decided I wouldn’t tell them a single thing about where you’d gone’

Как же мне нравится проза. В очередной раз убеждаюсь,что готова читать практически о чем угодно, если написано хорошо.

‘You’re right that I made no effort to fit in—This was—supposed to be temporary—I had no expectations/desires for my situation—I’d look at your faces & wonder how we’d become friends—I was completely out of control for those two years—running wild. Looking back—it might have been the happiest time of my life—though I can’t remember how that actually felt. Memory is selective—my memory would rather cling to suffering’

‘—it seeped into the texture of your life. No matter what form it takes—I believe it is still present—and like me, you can’t ignore it. Let’s talk. Yes, let’s talk—I don’t know why I did what I did. Maybe because everything seemed out of my hands and the only thing I could choose was how to end this—After that—You’d vanished cleanly from our lives—like my hopes. I thought this was your way of telling me you agreed—’

'This life that wasn’t mine would—like a dandelion—puffed into blossom wherever the wind took it. Without the encumbrance of roots—grown in its own manner—This ancient country was under a thick layer of dust & leaving would feel like being cleansed. I was drawn to this freedom even if it came streaked with suffering—I recognised you. Cheng Gong—I said—You—opened your eyes—as if you’d dozed off—waiting so long for me'