"To arrive at love, then, is to arrive through obliteration. Eviscerate me, we mean to say, and I'll tell you the truth. I'll say yes. "Keep going," I begged. "Fucked me up, fuck me up." By then, violence was already mundane to me, was what i knew, ultimately, of love. Fuck. Me. Up. It felt good to n"
"I am writing to reach you—even if each word I put down is one word further from where you are. I am writing to go back to the time, at the rest stop in Virginia, when you stared, horror-struck, at the taxidermy buck hung over the soda machine by the restrooms, its antlers shadowing your face. In the"
19年夏天年开始读他的书,恰巧几乎是哥大autobiography的最后一节课,一个年轻的法国作家和我们聊天交流。他说有一个越南裔美国人也在写类似的东西,以letter的形式。恰巧那时候看了the new yorker的一篇报道,刚刚开始读这本书。我接下茬儿,说叫ocean什么吧,在umass amherst做住校写作顺便教literature, 他说是啊是啊。突然想到northampton的咖啡馆们,也许会在某一个傍晚偶遇。
那些依然羞於向你坦白的事,也只能用你看不懂的語言寫出來了。
除了写父亲的都还挺喜欢的,很轻盈。
走在雨天的la听着audible version; "what is a country but a life sentence?"
Just let the GAYS write GAY SEX! 致谢名单看笑了也是一种文青基佬刻板印象
An exploration of race, class, sexuality, war, family in an honest and vulnerable way…
“Human’s eye is god’s loneliest creation. How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing. “