The deflowering of my virginal mind by Haruki Murakami- an author whose reputation has gathered around my thoughts like delicious rumours, I bid my time before I finally managed to grasp my hands upon one of his works. There's something in his writing, or perhaps only in this particular story, that grew an otherworldly cluster of tendrils and ensnared my mind, leaving me feeling quite perturbed upon its ending. There was a pale, glowing seed of bewildering thoughts and they stretched and yawned in my mind for days afterwards, invading the mundane of my reality. Not disappointing, but different. And different isn't necessarily good or bad.
No comments:
Post a Comment