Cling to me. Nothing happened, nothing at all. I feel like I’ve returned to my old Cleveland-style life, a life made up of details. When I’m at work, I shred cheeses and chop mushrooms. When I’m at home, I often watch TV, watch the sunlight change outside the window, or watch the time go by while playing records. I was surprised to see that New York could be as normal and peaceful as Cleveland. It can take on the same desolate look. Although we often think that the deceased only live in the past, I now believe that they still exist in an endless present. There is no hope for better things in the future. There is no memory of every moment that happened in the past.
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