I look so settled, off in a dream world, like how I feel when I read a book. The whole world around me moves fast and I'm sitting there with a book in my hand, letting it pass me by.
I'm currently reading Diary - by Chuck Palahniuk. I finished The Wind Up Bird Chronicle (which I began late summer last year while I was with James) on Tuesday. It left me feeling slightly uneasy that there wasn't a full explanation to the curious incidents, but yet I was content with Murakami's last words. I didn't really expect to have the whole story explained to me in a paragraph, I like the fact it left me with no particular ending, just like life, you carry on. The book was left at a point like a the ending of a relationship, it ends but you carry on living and so does the other person. I felt like the feelings of Turo Okada, Kumiko and May Kasahara carried on and the world they lived in is still there.
Listening to: Bjork - Hyperballad