Christmas Eve.

I am amazed at how close to now a year ago seems to be. All of those things I dreaded and anticipated and even looked forward to are now buried under the dust of the past. The books I've read, films I've watched, albums I've gone through once or twice or a hundred times, music I've learned and performed and loved and hated, feelings that now seem unutterably distant to me. Moments lost forever. I'm reminded of a particular quote by Murakami, one from an early novel of his entitled Dance Dance Dance:

"Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting."

The main character was trying to explain this to a young girl in regards to her fragile life, but of course she couldn't come up with an answer and kept silent.





If I had to sum up the past few years of my life, which so happen to have been the most formative, the most important thing to mention would have to be the work of Haruki Murakami. My first copy of Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, a novel of his introduced to me by someone I try hard to forget about, was hiding on the bottom shelf of some distant bookstore when I came upon it on a whim, and bought it. This was only the beginning of my journey to coming to terms with myself. With his writing I felt like I was not alone. If I just carried with me a scrap of his writing, in whatever form, I knew in my heart that I would be full of the musings of a wonderful man's imagination and never be lonely. I could explore at will the depth (or lack thereof) of his stories and characters, all so eerily similar, and ponder what it means to look at the world through the eyes of an utter outsider. Fairly cultured, but for no apparent reason or significance. Childishly innocent, yet haunted by dark nightmares night after night. Acknowledging the loveliness and pure beauty of the tiniest, most mundane things - appreciating their function in the workings of the world, praising common inanimate objects for their ability to withstand the manic nature of the humans who use them.

Right now I'm just listening to music that reminds me of times past. Agalloch, Dornenreich, Ulver, Tenhi. Agalloch really are an incredible band, I've never been disappointed with them. I don't listen to them a lot, so when I do I am always blown away. The newer artists that I've gotten into seem so new to me that it is hard to listen to them when I want to retreat inside myself. You know, when I want to read my favorite passages of Wuthering Heights or The Count of Monte Cristo or The Great Gatsby - the things that shaped who I am, not things I have never cried or slept to or even truly experienced.

goodnight