"Let’s go on a date," Sensei would say. Even though we lived close to each other, we always met up at the station rather nearest the location of our date. We would make our separate ways to the station. If we ever ran into each other on the train on the way to meet up, Sensei would murmur something like, Oh-ho, Tsukiko, what a strange place to see you."
I realize I must have grown quite fond of this story at some point after all.
It is such a beautiful day outside… ..
I miss you.
"So, then, well."
"Would you consider a relationship with me, based on a premise of love?"
Almost at the end of my first Hiromi Kawakami.
Eating Japanese literature until we get to Kyoto in October heh.
Understand, I’ll slip quietly away from the noisy crowd when I see the pale stars rising, blooming, over the oaks. I’ll pursue solitary pathways through the pale twilit meadows, with only this one dream: You come too.
—Rainer Maria Rilke
He was not such a special person. He loved to read very much, and also to write. He was a poet, and he exhibited me many of his poems. I remember many of them. They were silly, you could say, and about love. He was always in his room writing those things, and never with people. I used to tell him, What good is all that love doing on paper? I said, Let love write on you for a little. But he was so stubborn. Or perhaps he was only timid.
—Everything Is Illuminated, by Jonathan Safran Foer
'And you're building a specially made station, just for me, until nearly dawn?'
_‘Thats right,’ Tsukuru said. ‘Because I love you, and I want you.’
Nearly at the end of the latest Murakami.
Monochrome bed sheets
Your side profile