It’s been a few days in a row where the first thing that seems to find its way into my belly is… chocolate. Yes, I’m indeed verymuchso a “woman” in that way. Chocolate makes everything better, it has the ability to fill that void (be in hunger, anxiety, depression or just “meh”)… unfortunately it substitutes the hole in my tummy with lovely extra cushioning on my belly. I really have no right to complain about my midriff squish 😀
It’s sort of nice to let the coco melt in my mouth and spread on my tongue and teeth. I know it’s not “healthy”, but given that I usually wake up wishing morning hadn’t already come, the chocolate is a less bitter way to kick start my day.
Yesterday was my blessed day off and though I could have spent my time slaving away, I decided to avoid working for one day of the week. Letting the chocolate sit on my taste buds, I decided not to lug my computer around town as I had initially planned. Considering how much time I spend in front of a glowing screen, I opted to indulge in a passion I’ve ignored for a while: reading.
After running errands around town I found myself sitting across my Beloved in a coffee shop, him working on his computer and I being swallowed into the world of Murakami. This is my first peek into his works and though I am barely a sixth into Kafka on the Shore I am already lost in the world of weak shadows and children that mysteriously lose consciousness.
My eyes greedily ran over the translated ink and as I allowed myself to imagine Japan with a hint of the unreal, I am reminded of my love for magic realism. There is something about the genre that captivates me in a way that no mystery, romance, or horror can.
There is something about living in a world where uncommon events transpire without the aid of magic that pulls me in. If I allow myself to admit it, I think it’s because that’s the sort of world I’d like to live in. Not a world of magic-dust and wicked spells, but with people who posses gifts of talking to animals and friends who have companions like “the boy named Crow”… reality, with a twist.
I’ve loved reading since I was a child, it’s always been an escape without having to go anywhere. Finding a book like Kafka on the Shore which makes me want to lick the words off the page reminds me of how much I love reading. And now, I long for days like yesterday.
Yesterday felt perfect – music I could ignore playing in the background… a glass of silver tip ice tea on hand… The Man’s serious “work face” for company… and a world beyond my own that I could disappear to.
All I wanted to do today was go to a coffee shop, glace at my Man’s geeky hair do and delve into Murakami.