Author: Banana Yoshimoto
When I’m dead worn out, in a reverie, I often think that when it comes time to die, I want to breathe my last in a kitchen. Whether it’s cold and I’m all alone, or somebody’s there and it’s warm, I’ll stare death fearlessly in the eye. If it’s a kitchen, I’ll think, “How good.”
over the rain-hounded night panorama. I was tied by blood to no creature in this world. I could go anywhere, do anything. It was dizzying.
I was tied by blood to no creature in this world. I could go anywhere, do anything. It was dizzying.
Their faces shone like buddhas when they smiled.
Maybe all I had been hoping for was a bed in which to be able to stop thinking, just for a little while, about what happened before and what would happen in the future.
wanted. I was happy. I’ve always been like that—if I’m not pushed to
I’ve always been like that—if I’m not pushed to the brink, I won’t move.
In this world there is no place for sadness. No place; not one.
“Yes. But if a person hasn’t ever experienced true despair, she grows old never knowing how to evaluate where she is in life; never understanding what joy really is. I’m grateful for it.” Her hair rustled, brushing
“Yes. But if a person hasn’t ever experienced true despair, she grows old never knowing how to evaluate where she is in life; never understanding
“Yes. But if a person hasn’t ever experienced true despair, she grows old never knowing how to evaluate where she is in life; never understanding what joy really is. I’m grateful for it.”
I grow older, much older, I will experience many things, and I will hit rock bottom again and again. Again and again I will suffer; again and again I will get back on my feet. I will not be defeated. I won’t let my spirit be destroyed.
I grow older, much older, I will experience many things, and I will hit rock bottom again and again. Again and again I will suffer; again and again I will get back on my feet. I will not be defeated. I won’t let my spirit be destroyed.
As I grow older, much older, I will experience many things, and I will hit rock bottom again and again. Again and again I will suffer; again and again I will get back on my feet. I will not be defeated. I won’t let my spirit be destroyed.
“Eriko, you’re looking a little masculine tonight!” She flashed me a big smile and said, “Poor me! I have a smart-ass for a daughter. I wonder if she’s hitting puberty?”
Once in a while Nori’s mother would telephone. She was so gentle and kind she made me feel shy. What amazed me was that she usually seemed to know Nori’s schedule for the entire day. But then I guess all mothers are like that. Nori would talk to her on the phone in a voice like a silver bell, smiling a little smile and smoothing her long, fluttering hair.
“Eriko raised me that way,” he said, laughing. “If I didn’t open the door for her, she’d get mad and refuse to get in the car.” “Even though she was a man!” I said, laughing.
I realized that the world did not exist for my benefit. It followed that the ratio of pleasant and unpleasant things around me would not change. It wasn’t up to me. It was clear
that the best thing to do was to adopt a sort of muddled cheerfulness. So I became a woman, and here I am.”
Why is it we have so little choice? We live like the lowliest worms. Always defeated—defeated we make dinner, we eat, we sleep. Everyone we love is dying. Still, to cease living is unacceptable.