"Memory is like fiction: or else it's fiction that's like memory. This really came home to me once I started writing fiction, that memory seemed a kind of fiction, or vice versa. Either way, no matter how hard you try to put everything neatly into shape, the context wanders this way and that, until finally the context isn't even there anymore. You're left with this pile of kittens lolling all over one another. Warm with life, hopelessly unstable. And then to put these things out as saleable items, you call them finished products -- at times it's downright embarrassing just to think of it."
Excerpt from "The Last Lawn of the Afternoon" by Haruki Murakami.
a blog by the writer E. S. Liew. Because the best ideas start on the back of receipts and paper napkins, written with a Staedtler 2B pencil.