I love Girl. I will explain what that is. When I look at her, I feel sick like I am going to die. I have never had the Great Disease (obviously, because I am still alive.) But my Uncle described it to me. He said there is a tightness in your chest, you cannot breathe, and you have anger towards the Gods because they are hurting you for no reason. I was going to ask him to explain more, but then he died. (He had been sick a long time, almost two days.) My point is: Girl makes me feel this way, like I am going to die. There are many women in the world. By last count, seven. But she is the only one I ever think about.
Primordial cell
I want to give only a very brief explanation of this. There are three possibilities for a cell; the first is death, the second is cell division; the third is fusion: a union, a merging with another cell, which almost always causes a division. Neither division nor union means death: it is a reproductive process, the changing of one living cell into two living cells that are virtually the same. They are both the living continuations of the original cell. The primordial cell came into being billions of years ago, and the primordial cell has survived in the form of trillions of cells. And it lives on still in every single one of all the cells alive now. And all life, everything that has ever lived and everything that is alive today, is the result of divisions of the primordial cell. It is therefore composed of the primordial cell, which is still alive. These are matters that no biologist can dispute and that no biologist will dispute. We are all the primordial cell, in a very similar sense (genidentity) to that in which I am the same person now as I was thirty years ago, even though perhaps not one atom of my present body existed in my body in those days.
Alain Delonun Romy Schneider için onun ölümünden sonra yazdığı mektup
“I watch you sleep. I’m with you, by your bedside. You’re wearing a long black tunic and red embroidery on the bodice. These are flowers, I think, but I do not look at them. I will say goodbye, the longest farewell, my Puppelé. That’s how I called you. It meant “little doll” in German. I do not watch the flowers, but your face and I think you’re
when I find a moment of sudden silence, I shut my eyes. And in that moment I am back in the woods, back in the lake. My forest around me, a kingdom that I understand. A place that does not love me and that I do not love. But we don’t expect love from each other, the wild and me. We only want to survive.
And I did. And I will.
My name is Jess Cooper, and I am still alive.
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They think I’m wounded, but there is a difference between a wound and a scar. I’m done bleeding. I’m tougher now. And if these scars sometimes make things stiff, make it a little harder to move smoothly through a conversation or the routines of normal life, they just keep me from forgetting.
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Things can change in an instant. If you aren’t ready, they won’t give you the courtesy of a second chance.
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