i finished that murakami novel. it reminds me of being sleepy all the time, of reaching for something that is not quite there, or for something behind a window that you can never go around. yes, an endless toy store window. sort of. it is not triumphant nor completely conclusive in the end, and as a result it sucked the spirit out of me i think. perhaps we are better off not being too deep. in a strange way it reminds me of ellison’s invisible man.
i think i need to read it again in a month. perhaps it was the pace with which i read it–i finished it in just three days, and the first day i only read fifty pages of it or so. between the six-and-a-half hour flight and the uneventful christmas night, i cleaned up the other 550 pages.
i think, when we eat real food tomorrow, i will feel a bit better haha.
which book? reading kafka on the shore right now, but having trouble continuing interest.
i really liked dance dance dance and hardboiled wonderland.