Monday, June 13, 2011

You know what I love the most.. the feeling I love the most?

The smell of Autumn and apple cinnamon, any sort of cinnamon wafting in the air as if coming from an oven filled with pastries that you can sort of make out through the coffee-colored glass screen of the oven door when you switch on the inside lights. This feeling just suddenly struck me because the girl sitting to my right ordered something cinnamon and the aroma lingered for a few seconds even after she walked out cafe.

Anyhow. Yesterday at the library, after exhausting my energy on watching City Hunter and reading the FDR/Eleanor biography I perused the foreign books shelf and happened to pull out Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.

I.
What? Why have I never heard of him until now? Why never in Mrs. Volansky's class...?
Every single word and sentence and paragraph he's constructed strikes right through me somehow for some reason I can't explain. He's just amazing. Easily my favorite writer. Sorry, Oscar Wilde.

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