Sundays are for…

Norwegian Wood. Twirling your hair in imperfect semi-circles, lying sloppily in big chairs, digging into two helpings of rich chocolate mousse, and curling up with Norwegian Wood. Whether or not you’ve read this Murakami  before. Watanbe drags you into his imperfect world. In it, there are friends who die, and friends who live, and friends you’re not certain about. There are friends who walk away, kill themselves, girlfriends who are not really girlfriends. Just letters lost in time.

There are teenage turmoils, there is the nostalgia, there is thinking about  life in the time when you didn’t know where it is going. There is finding out what you want the hard way, in the middle of nowhere (It probably takes Nowhere and Nothing to realize what you want?). There is choosing happiness. There is the Beatles, and Midori. Bashful, beautiful Midori. Frail, dying Naoko. Wise, old-soul Reiko.

And, there is time. The goodness in time, time that mends and time that heals. Time that reveals what you want, and what should be. Time that must be given, and time that must be taken.

So the good things don’t slip away…or at least not forever.

Buy here:–&_r=_1p1YirMXL39v%20NjSgHemQ–&ref=a6971f44-e7fb-43a4-a1b9-84dca49ba558



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2 responses to “Sundays are for…

  1. It has been one of my favourite books since the day I read it. The melancholy strikes a cord and it just becomes a part of you, doesn’t it?

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