Maybe it’s because after all this time I think that really good songs - or really good anything - they’re hard to find, like if you listen to the radio for a whole hour there’s maybe one decent song. The rest is mass-produced garbage. But back then I never thought about it, and it was great just listening. Didn’t matter what it was. I was a kid. I was in love. And when you’re a kid you can relate to anything, even if it’s silly…
jennilee:
my favorite short story
youmightfindyourself:
by Haruki Murakami
One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo’s fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.
Tell you the truth, she’s not that good-looking. She doesn’t stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is…
She came to me, nonetheless, and then she was gone. If only for some hundredth part of a second, she had been in my heart. And when she moved on, she left a strange, human-shaped emptiness in her place.
“
| — |
Haruki Murakami (Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman)
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Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they’re also what tear you apart
Find me now. Before someone else does.
I knew I should be doing some serious thinking, but I had no idea how to go about it. And, to tell the truth, thinking was the last thing I wanted to do. The time would come soon enough when I had no choice in the matter, and when that time came I would take a good, long while to think things over. Now now though. Not now.
“
| — |
Norwegian Wood (Haruki Murakami)
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Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?
“
| — |
Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (via soboku)
|
Even if we could turn back, we’d probably never end up where we started.
I didn’t feel like I was in my own body; my body was just a lonely, temporary container I happened to be borrowing.
observando:
Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they’re also what tear you apart.
-Haruki Murakami
