'' Question for you, Neil. Do I look dead to you?" He pointed up at his face, waited for Neil to answer, and didn't seem surprised when Neil didn't. "Here."
Andrew beckoned Neil closer as if he wanted to show Neil something on his phone's small screen. He flipped the phone open one-handed and pressed down hard on a single button. There was silence, then the distant hum of Andrew's phone dialing out. Between them Neil's phone started to sing. The words were different than Andrew's ringtone, but the voice was the same. Neil knew it was from the same miserable song. The lyrics hurt just as much as Andrew's had. Neil stared down at the phone and let it ring.
"Your phone is ringing," Andrew said. "You should answer it."
Neil picked it up with numb fingers and opened it. He spared only a second to look at Andrew's name on the screen before he answered and put it to his ear.
"Your parents are dead, you are not fine, and nothing is going to be okay," Andrew said. "This is not news to you. But from now until May you are still Neil Josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive.
"I don't care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don't care if you never use it again. But you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it." Andrew put a finger to the underside of Neil's chin and forced Neil's head up until they were looking at each other. "On that day you're not going to run. You're going to think about what I promised you and you're going to make the call. Tell me you understand."
Ode to nightingale
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,—
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
Thinking of you is pretty, hopeful,
It is like listening to the most beautiful song
From the most beautiful voice on earth...
But hope is not enough for me any more,
I don't want to listen to songs any more,
I want to sing.
Nazım Hikmet Ran
"Between dawn and dawn a new
truth came to me.
I shall not be a shepherd, nor a gravedigger. I do not want to even speak again with the people – for the last time have I spoken to a dead person.
I shall join the creators, the harvesters, the celebrators: I shall show them the rainbow and all the steps to the overman.
I shall sing my song to lonesome and twosome hermits, and for him who still has ears for the unheard of, I shall make his heart heavy with my happiness.
I want to go to my goal, and I go my own way; over the hesitating and dawdling I shall leap. Thus let my going be their going under!”
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We do not ask for what useful purpose the birds do sing, for song is their pleasure since they were created for singing. Similarly, we ought not to ask why the human mind troubles to fathom the secrets of the heavens.… The diversity of the phenomena of Nature
is so great, and the treasures hidden in the heavens so rich, precisely in order that the human mind shall never be lacking in fresh nourishment.
—Johannes Kepler, Mysterium Cosmographicum
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Another Love..
I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care
But it's so cold and I don't know where
I brought you daffodils in a pretty string
But they won't flower like they did last spring
And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright
I'm just so tired to share my nights
I wanna cry and I wanna love
But all my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up, up
And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight
But my hand's been broken one too many times
So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude
Words, they always win, but I know I'll lose
And I'd sing a song that'd be just ours
But I sang 'em all to another heart
And I wanna cry, I wanna learn to love
But all my tears have been used up
Keys to the Ogimi Lifestyle
*One hundred percent of the people we interviewed keep a vegetable garden, and most of them also have fields of tea, mangoes, shikuwasa, and so on.
*All belong to some form of neighborhood association, where they feel cared for as though by family.
*They celebrate all the time, even little things. Music, song, and dance are essential parts of daily life.
*They have an important purpose in life, or several. They have an ikigai, but they don't take it too seriously. They are relaxed and enjoy all that they do.
*They are very proud of their traditions and local culture.
*They are passionate about everything they do, however insignificant it might seem.
*Locals have a strong sense of yuimaaru-recognizing the connection between people. They help each other with everything from work in the fields (harvesting sugarcane or planting rice) to building houses and municipal projects. Our friend Miyagi, who ate dinner with us on our last night in town, told us that he was building a new home with the help of all his friends, and that we could stay there the next time we were in Ogimi.
*They are always busy, but they occupy themselves with tasks that allow them to relax. We didn't see a single old grandpa sitting on a bench doing nothing. They're always coming and going to sing karaoke, visit with neighbors, or play a game of gateball.
I'm going to down to the cemetery 'cos the world is all wrong. Down there with the spooks, to hear 'em sing my sorrow song.
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