There is darkness...and there is light. There are men and women. There's food. There are restaurants. Disease. There's work. Traffic. The days as we know them. The world as we imagine the world.
It's dark now...but they feel each other's breath...and they know all they need to know. They kiss...and they feel each other's tears on their cheeks. And if there had been anybody left to see them, then they would look like normal lovers caressing each other's faces...bodies close together...eyes closed...oblivious to the world around them. Because that is how life goes on. Like that.
One day. One day, son, you'll be in love. And you'll be miserable. That's your karma. Truly in love and miserable.
My dad called everybody sailor. He worked in the docks all his life. He never went sailing anywhere but he called everybody sailor. Even people he didn't know. "Hello, sailor." "Goodbye, sailor."
Smell and memory were connected in the brain. Cinnamon might have reminded you of your grandmother's apron. The scent of cut hay could evoke a childhood fear of cows. Diesel oil might bring back memories of your first ferry crossing. Without smell, an ocean of past images disappears.
farmers going out to milk their cows... soldiers reporting for duty. Those who believe that life will go on somehow... or just don't know what else to do.
- And what happens if you're wrong?
- Then we're fucked.
