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A Dragon In Progress
I’ve had this blog on standby for a few months. Part of that’s because time constraints, part is indecision and part confidence or should I say a lack thereof.
Time, I battle distractions on a daily basis. Now, if I find something of interest you can bet I’d dedicate a solid few hours of research. The problem lies in my organizational skills, the development of which is one of the reasons why I began this site in the first place. So, work in progress.
Indecision, where do I begin? How in depth should I go? Perhaps I can touch briefly on a subject and at a later date expound on it … yes, that may work with my current frame of mind. And plus I’m simply beside myself, it’s so exciting to actually begin this project!
What subjects will I cover? Will it be exclusively language, and archaeology/anthropology? No, I’ve decided…
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You’re sitting somewhere by yourself. A table at a cafe or your kitchen or on a roof so high up. You think about the movement of time.
You are filled with this vulnerable sensation spreading from your center to all your limbs with the vivid realization you are wide open to anything and everything. It is in no way pleasant.
Your only defense? Pick a path any path. A road to walk with a purpose prominent in your stride or maybe a quiet confidence, knowing you have something in sight. Hold this close, grip it tight.
Yes you, sitting there looking out the window, over the many roof tops. These are the days that will define you. Better yet, seize this realized time and define it.
Rated: 5/5 stars
Eyes mark the shape of the city.
– page 3, 11:56 PM
Have you ever felt that a certain book could have been written just for you? After Dark is mine. Possessive, I know, that’s how it feels but then since when has a book never been personal? It’s a quiet and observant work of art, one that just states it purpose in an understated inflection that belies its significance, its message to us.
This is my first Haruki Murakami and I have fallen in love. I’ve tried so much, struggled to express into words the soft-but-firm clinging strings of the spell that the night has cast upon me. So far, I haven’t found a short version, After Dark is the long one, and it’s come close.
Commuter trains of many colours move in all directions, transporting people from place to place. Each of those under transport is a human being with a different face and mind, and at the same time each is a nameless part of the collective entity. Each is simultaneously a part of a self-contained whole and a mere part. Handling this dualism of theirs skillfully and advantageously, they perform their morning rituals with deftness and precision: brushing teeth, shaving, tying neckties, applying lipstick.
– page 241, 6:50 AM
This fact of being an individual entity and a part of an ever morphing jigsaw puzzle of existence simultaneously, has always been on the fringes of my awareness and reading this it fills me with some contentment, now that I’ve finally seen it put in a coherent arrangement of words.
Mari has made her way through the long hours of darkness, traded many words with the night people she encountered there, and come back to where she belongs.
– page 243, 6:52 AM Continue reading