What can I give you when I have little to give? I am not empty but I don't have much. Can I offer you a jest when your house bursts in laughter? Can I offer you a match when your street is lined with lamps? My love is not the quilt you use on a cold night nor a color your pick to paint your fence. It's a cobblestone you step on on your brick-paved way home, but, it is mine to give.
HOME
The sea calls to me
with its luring calm
humid air brushing my skin
heat I'll never tame.
They summon me all together
longing to kiss me once more
to bronze my skin
make my eyes squint.
Sand between my toes
salt wrapping my body
even my eyeballs
can taste it.
The most melodious
sound of the water
can only be heard
when I'm drowning.
Still, I'm returning.
because I miss the rain
One season lingers a little longer and people start complaining. "When is this rain going to end?" "The summer's supposed to end anytime soon and it'll be a little cool again." And while these sentiments are valid, I can't help but think of the person at a party who doesn't know that the party is already over. "Why are you still here? Don't tell me you're staying the night? Everybody has gone home." People and seasons are only welcome when they follow a certain schedule or calendar or timeline. And if you stay a little longer, prepare for ominous displays of repulsion and distaste.
I never liked the summer heat, except when I'm at the beach. I was born in a coastal city so I'm used to the sea breeze, tan lines. I was only pale during the -ber months. During the rainy season, I would wait for that heavy downpour so I could go outside and shower in the rain, sometimes alone, sometimes with neighbors, didn't matter.
Are you a frog, mama asked. Look at your clothes!
Frogs don't wear clothes. I was born in May, somebody told me I'm a Taurus.
No wonder you're stubborn.
I don't believe in zodiac signs. But I'm glad it's an Earth sign.
And your grandpa calls you Midori, the color of nature.
Mama, will this season last for 6 months or so?
I'm not sure but I'm hoping for sunny days ahead.
Thought you didn't like hot days.
So tell me, how are you supposed to dry your clothes?
Thoughts on After Dark by Haruki Murakami
The story takes place in urban Tokyo from around midnight (11:56 pm) to early morning (6:50 am). It follows a character named Mari, a 19-year-old girl who is reading alone and spending the night at Denny's. Shortly, a new character is introduced—Takahashi, a trombone player who happened to have met Mari and her sister before this encounter. Takahashi starts up a conversation with Mari about how he knew her. They talk about Mari's older sister, Eri, a beautiful part-time model who has been sleeping for months.
As the night grows deeper, Mari crosses paths with other characters. These encounters with strangers and Takahashi change how Mari feels about her current situation, family affairs, and how she navigates her own melancholia.
If you haven't read any books written by Haruki Murakami, this is a perfect prelude to his other works and worlds. Its length is less daunting, which is around 240 to 250 pages only. It uses a first-person plural "we" perspective, which gives us, its readers, the camera position, allowing us to observe the characters through a lens.
The elements of surrealism in this book are rather soft, making After Dark an ideal first Murakami experience. It doesn't contain weird sex, a vanishing elephant, a talking monkey, or anything labyrinthine.
Like other Murakami's works, this doesn't have a definite ending. It's the reading experience that matters. This dreamlike narrative will definitely put you in a trance and will have you thinking of the things that may happen to you and within you After Dark.
***
“You know what I think?" she says. "That people's memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. Whether those memories have any actual importance or not, it doesn't matter as far as the maintenance of life is concerned. They're all just fuel. Advertising fillers in the newspaper, philosophy books, dirty pictures in a magazine, a bundle of ten-thousand-yen bills: when you feed 'em to the fire, they're all just paper.”
― After Dark
Yesterday, I Sat Down With My Demons
Yesterday, I sat down with my demons because Bukowski told me to do so
I served them tea, without milk.
No need to offer an apology for the scarcity
They know very well how impoverished I am.
There were three of them at the table but
I know there were some more.
I asked them, So what's your name?
Oh, yes, I already know.
I am you, you are me, that's what they always say
As they continued playing cards, ignoring the tea
"You're trying to poison us."
I said, no, that's not true.
I lied.
They grew bigger and uglier -
Such a fright!
So I took out a knife from my pocket,
I wondered how it got there.
I am you, you are me, again they said
They continued playing cards and ignored the tea
Okay, don't drink it, I finally caved.
I took the cups to the kitchen sink
but when I got back, only lingering echoes remained
Until next time, I whispered in the air.
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Characters (Main) Ko Munyeong - writer (writes children's books); anti-social Moon Gang-tae - caregiver, spent most of his life looking... -
Yesterday, I sat down with my demons because Bukowski told me to do so I served them tea, without milk. No need to offer an apology for the ...