I remember you.

I have tons of things that I want to say. I would love to pour out my deepest secrets, whatever is plaguing my thoughts, and the ifs and whys of all the happenings around. I want to write them down, in the lovely green notebook lying on the floor. But I can’t find the words, I can’t find the thing that gives me the inspiration to write. So I’ve been living in my dreams, my delusions. Imagining the stuff that I can’t put down in words. So far so good.

Tell me, Mr Wind-up Bird, do you ever get obsessed with these delusions? Not to boast or anything, but I do. All the time. Sometimes, when they’re really bad, I’ll spend the whole working day wrapped up in a cloud of delusion. Of course, I’m just performing these simple operations, so it doesn’t get in the way of my work, but the other girls sometimes give me strange looks. Or maybe I say crazy things to myself out loud. I hate that, but it doesn’t do any good to try and fight it. When a delusion wants to come, it comes, like a period. And you can’t just meet it at the front door and say, “Sorry, I’m busy today. try me later.” 

May Kasahara from The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

Gordy, I miss you! It’s not the same lah, without you here. I can’t wait for Dec. Will you find me a pseudo boyfriend? I’ll tell you the full story when you’re online.