Lower Realm

To a man Geisha can only be half a wife. We are the wives of nightfall. And yet to learn of kindness, after so much unkindness… To understand that a little girl with more courage than she knew, would find that her prayers were answered. Can that not be called happiness? After all these are not the memoirs of an empress, nor of a queen…these are memoirs of another kind.

The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves… Until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.

At the temple, there is a poem called “Loss”, carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read “Loss”… Only feel it.

Chris Nielsen: That’s when I realized I’m part of the problem. Not because I remind you. But because I couldn’t join you. So I left you alone. Don’t give up, okay?

Dear Diary, I am writing in your bull**** pages because my shrink is crazier then I am. He thinks you’re therapy. He figures if two babies can hammer me into a Psycho ward, what will I do with this ? He is so stupid. He’s so stupid that he thinks he pulled me through the breakdown when it was Chris. Always. Only Chris. I was looking through his postcards. Paintings were his obsession. He used art as another way to love me, to help me. To keep us always together.

Marie: [looks at a cardboard cutout of Heaven] Is this where we go when we die?
Chris Nielsen: It’s a dream baby, it’s a beautiful one, but you know dreams…
Marie: I know, aren’t real. I know.