Writings

[..."A loud grunt in the plane's engines woke him up. Almost instantly, a scorching dryness took hold of his throat. He reached out for the glass of water on the out-folded tray next to him. He thought again how lucky he was to have nobody sitting on the seat next to him. He struggled to open his eyes but they felt sticky and dry, and his eyelids heavy, as if glued shut with cheap glue."...]

"In this age of memorials, it is customary to think of architecture as a means of commemoration. Indeed, as a synthetic physical act, architecture has long been a common and prevalent means of giving a commemorative presence to memory. However, by giving physicality to memory, architecture offers simultaneously its means of annihilation, thus becoming an ideal means of achieving its antithesis, oblivion. And just like memory, a finite selective process, architecture inescapably embodies an act of exclusion as well. As such architecture emerges as an ideal vehicle for oblivion as much as it is for memory."

[..."A dead rat lay at the bottom of the stairs. You could barely see it standing here at the top of the flight, but you could definitely smell it. Oh, you could smell its sickening sweet stench from the end of the street! Well, almost. The electricity was out. It won’t be back until noon. But the loading dock at the other end was open, and it let some light in. Light that barely made its way to this side here, but ah well, it was enough to make out the fuzzy little outline of the decaying rodent below."...]