Autumn

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.

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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

    Like

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