as i was sitting in seminar the other day, the sun was setting and slicing through the blinds, throwing onto the ground right at my feet a slender blade of golden evening sunlight. it was a simple and small sight that took my breath away, and it is such moments that hold before me, in a quick flash, all the things i enjoy doing and all the things i want to be. i was reminded then of how long it has been since i have written anything, let alone anything that i was proud of. but these days i feel no urge to write. moments like the one in class do sometimes tug at me, and then i feel a spark deep inside me to plunge once again into my quiet writing space, but this flicker quickly dissipates. i remember how i used to think that worlds besides our own were best looked at through the lens of prose and the written word… but it has been the longest time since i have made that argument to any willing listener.
why, then? it’s a little bit like the case of Sumire from Haruki Murakami’s book Sputnik Sweetheart, and how she felt that she couldn’t write anymore after she had met Miu, the subject of her love and affections. since meeting Miu and spending time with her, it was as if Sumire had stopped thinking and started living, expanding the boundaries of her world no longer through writing and reading but simply by sharing experiences with Miu. that is how i feel now. i feel as if i have found the one best friend whom i have been searching for for so long, and now that i have him i don’t need to put anything down in writing in order to understand it better. all i have to do is talk to him. when something excites me he is the first and many times the only person i want to tell. when i am scared or anxious he takes it all away just with one phone call. it sounds silly and dangerous but so often i feel that my deepest and truest self feeds on existing in the same world as his.
ah. dont i sound like a silly 14 year old girl :) when i was 14 i was rather emotionally vulnerable. by the time i had met kafka i was a wreck – an angry wreck who couldn’t trust perfectly anymore and had little faith in things and people. but then i met him, and could not believe how lucky i had gotten. i think i am slowly but surely getting the hang of this trusting and loving thing… i feel better and stronger. i am still vulnerable but i know that i am in good hands.
p/s okay okay.. very cheesy, i know :) but i’m not usually like this…