Echo:I could’t sleep. I could’t sleep. Everyting’s far way. With insomnia, nothing’s real. Everyting’s a copy of a copy of a copy. 失眠症让我感受不到真实,一切都很虚幻,事情都成了相同的拷贝。
I wasn’t really dying. I wasn’t host to cancer or parasites. I was the warm little center. That the life of this world crowded around. 我没有绝症,也没有癌症或是寄生菌。我只是一个小小的中心,周围拥挤的生命的中心。
If I did have a tumor…I’d name it Marla. Marla…the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can’t. 玛拉犹如我的癌症,就像长在嘴边的烂疽一般。不去舔就不会恶化,但没有办法不去舔。