Hakkında
Almanya'da doğan Jedrowski, Cambridge'de hukuk diploması aldı, Paris Üniversitesi'ne gitti ve şu anda Polonya'da ulusal kimlik ve moda araştırmaları yapıyor.
Doğum:
Almanya, 1985
Okurlar
1 okur beğendi.
4 okur okudu.
2 okur okuyacak.
1 okur yarım bıraktı.
Sözler ve Alıntılar
For a moment the absurdity of it filled my throat, threatened to suffocate me. All these years they’d let us watch foreign films, allowing us glimpses of the world across the Wall, of freedoms we didn’t have. Did they really think we’d be still for ever?
I think of you. The face that my memory can conjure up with its rough outlines and fine details, with the grey-blue eyes the same colour as the Baltic Sea in winter. I think of your face while I get up, while I move in the darkness from bed to window, clothes lying around the floor like unfinished thoughts.
I guess you never knew that I saw you that night. Do you remember the music? Do you remember her earrings? Are there things you’ve forgotten, or things I’ve missed out? My memory has its limits, of course. It may colour in the blanks without admitting to it, dramatise or revise. I guess there is no photographic memory for emotions. But this is my truth right now, for better or worse.
No matter what happens in the world, however brutal or dystopian a thing, not all is lost if there are people out there risking themselves to document it.
Little sparks cause fires too.
You didn’t say anything for an interminable moment and I thought you had fallen asleep. Finally, you whispered, ‘I don’t want this to end.’
My heart beating hard, knocking against the wall of my chest, I replied: ‘Me neither.’
İletiler
Henüz kayıt yok
