The	years	of	childhood...My	memory	runs	head-on	into	a	scene	that	is	like	a	symbol	of	those	years.	To	me as	I	am	today,	that	scene	represents	childhood	itself,	past	and	irrecoverable.When	I	saw	the	scene	I	felt	the	hand	of	farewell	with	which	childhood	would take	its	leave	of	me.	I	had	a	premonition	at	that	instant	that	all	my	feeling	of subjective	time,	or	timelessness,	might	one	day	gush	forth	from	within	me	and flood	into	the	mold	of	that	scene,	to	become	an	exact	imitation	of	its	people	and movements	and	sounds;	that	simultaneous	with	the	completion	of	this	copy,	the original	might	melt	away	into	the	distant	perspectives	of	real	and	objective	time;and	that	I	might	be	left	with	nothing	more	than	the	mere	imitation	or,	to	say	it another	way,	with	nothing	more	than an	accurately	stuffed	specimen	of	my childhood. (Yukio Mishima)

The years of childhood...My memory runs head-on into a scene that is like a symbol of those years. To me as I am today, that scene represents childhood itself, past and irrecoverable.When I saw the scene I felt the hand of farewell with which childhood would take its leave of me. I had a premonition at that instant that all my feeling of subjective time, or timelessness, might one day gush forth from within me and flood into the mold of that scene, to become an exact imitation of its people and movements and sounds; that simultaneous with the completion of this copy, the original might melt away into the distant perspectives of real and objective time;and that I might be left with nothing more than the mere imitation or, to say it another way, with nothing more than an accurately stuffed specimen of my childhood.

Yukio Mishima

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