Love Letter Number Three

コんばんわ, Haruki Murakami!

I did it on purpose, using the Japanese writing of good evening in this letter to appreciate your place of birth. anyhow, Sir, I’m very thankful for being introduced to your books in this lifetime. I’m writing this letter in the midst of finishing my college assignment and finishing your book Kafka On The Shore.

Firstly, I would like to apologize for having to read Kafka On The Shore this late and not finishing it since almost a month ago. it’s not that I couldn’t finish it in one day, I simply read the book very slowly because, Sir, your words drown me in so deep in the book I somehow forget about the life I’m living. throughout my life, I have read several amazing authors and weep for their stories, but honestly, reading your books have made me done insanely over-thinking habit in the middle of the night. one time, I actually have a hard time breathing and started to hyperventilating on my bed at 2 in the morning because of your words. and for that, I apologize, I shouldn’t have let such smart and beautiful words tortured me, but they did.

Secondly, I would like to thank you. for being alive and able to share the stories and the deep-thought words that are now part of my life. I would like to also thank you for pinpointing the exact things I always wanted to say but never been able to, like these words I quoted from your book Norwegian Wood and Kafka On The Shore,

“I was always hungry for love. just once, I wanted so much to know what it was like to get my fill of it–to be fed so much love I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“I’m a flawed human being -a far more flawed human being than you realize.”

“Works that have a certain imperfection to them have an appeal for that very reason–or at least they appeal to certain types of people.” 

“There are a lot of things that aren’t your fault. or mine, either. not the fault of the prophecies, or curses, or DNA, or absurdity. not the fault of Structuralism or the Third Industrial Revolution. we all die and disappear, but that’s because the mechanism of the world itself is built on destruction and loss. our lives are just shadows of that guiding principles. say the wind blows. it can be strong, violent wind or a gentle breeze. but eventually, every kind of wind dies out and disappears. wind doesn’t have form. it’s just a movement of air. you should listen carefully, and then you will understand the metaphor.”

Thirdly, I would be very happy to pay you a visit in Japan (if I have the money and the time, that is) and try to show the world that like Kafka, I’m the toughest-19-year-old in the world.

 

Thank you and good night, Mr. Murakami!

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