Norwegian Wood

“I didn’t have much to say to anybody but kept to myself and my books. With my eyes closed, I would touch a familiar book and draw it’s fragrance deep inside me. This was enough to make me happy.”

– Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami.

It’s half past midnight, so I’ve reached that strange non-place where thoughts swirl and I end up typing some words instead of sleeping. I rarely share non-review posts but today, I thought, why not?

A part of me is still convinced that there is a parallel universe out there where I made all the right choices. I know that the right choice is a matter of perception, which shifts with all the other choices. It’s just easy to slip in and out of that knowing when I’ve paused over a path.

I had no words for loss until I read about how Toru and Naoko were swallowed by a void. It’s worth tracing Toru’s slow climb out of it. That path is an ending/beginning I return to at different points.

I still have no words of my own for it now but I’ve stumbled across shards in books like A Monster Calls, Among Others and Kitchen over the years. There’s also a poem in The Sky is Everywhere that captures the grey dwelling space. I still enter that house but I can see the different dimensions of it now.

Sometimes, stories and poems build small bridges across Autumn. On the windy days, it’s more like I’ve got a slippery buoy instead but if I grip and focus on one thing at a time, I find that I can ease myself into the steering of it.

Seeing, adjusting and building the bridges will take time.

One thought on “Autumn

  1. This is gorgeous and sorrowful, Glaiza, and it’s distinct, too. And I wonder if anything I write here will really -be- anything, because you wrote your words out and they are alive, and my own words… I don’t know if they’ll make them more alive, or if they’ll change anything at all. I feel like, with this post, I am transported a little away from myself, to remember how I feel in that hour where thoughts swirl. It’s a strange place, indeed, and I certainly don’t always like it- it can feel like you are less in control than being controlled, sometimes- but I also… do. And it’s the strangest sense, when I get into thinking about it.
    This is, though, a truly moving post. x


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