
I couldn't explain to you how the stillness of a methodically near-plotless movie about an almost-silent man cleaning beautiful public toilets in Tokyo fixed something in me that I didn't know was broken and broke something else in me I hadn't known was fragile, but here we are. If one day I am hoisted from the ocean like a tiger shark and marine biologists of the spirit rummage around among my license plates and tires, they'll find PERFECT DAYS intact, carried with me whole ever since I saw it, in here always.
5 days ago
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