sea level down
personal inspiration blog.

— Not only can water float a boat, it can sink it as well.

Dan never wanted to admit it but when he ran around Itova with the sun beating down his back he dreamed of that one time he played rooftop chicken at the orphanage. He dreamed of Mary’s chapped lips on his shoulder, Ezra’s hands after a day of beach combing and Isaac’s cautious confession of love; (Its your eyes and Mary’s breath and Ezra’s heart, they’ve been revealed and I can’t stop now). In this moment he knows what it means to not be dead; death is a singular moment. Living is a cascading series of sounds, love, back-pedaling, learning to swim, making sandwiches with slapdash ingredients and trying not to starve, beating death back with a stick.

"Don’t lose your grip now."

He doesn’t look back as dust is kicked off the streets, eyes bearing down on the horizon line. Moon strut.

Tonight, he’ll make fish stew.


Actress Ruan Lingyu looking super stylish.
Our city, these streets, I don’t know why it makes me so depressed. That old familiar gloom that befalls the city dweller, regular as due dates, cloudy as mental Jell-O. The dirty facades, the nameless crowds, the unremitting noise, the packed rush-hour trains, the grey skies, the billboards on every square centimeter of available space, the hopes and resignation, irritation and excitement. An infinity and at the same time, zero. We try to scoop it all up in our hands and what we get is a handful of zero. That’s the city.
That’s when I remember what that Chinese girl said: “This was never any place I was meant to be.”
— Haruki Murakami, "A Slow Boat to China"