Spoiled

"Norwegian Wood" by Haruki Murakami

(page 93)
"I guess I've been waiting so long I'm looking for perfection. That makes it tough."

"Waiting for the perfect love?"

"No, even I know better than that. I'm looking for selfishness. Perfect selfishness. Like, say I tell you I want to eat strawberry shortbread. And you stop everything you're doing and run out and buy it for me. And you come back out of breath and get down on your knees and hold this strawberry shortbread out to me. And I say I don't want it any more and throw it out of the window. That's what I'm looking for."

"I'm not sure that has anything to do with love," I said with some amazement.

"It does," she said. "You just don't know it. There are times in a girl's life when things like that are incredibly important."

"Things like throwing strawberry shortbread out of the window?"

"Exactly. And when I do it, I want the man to apologize to me. "Now I see, Midori. What a fool I've been! I should have known that you would lose your desire for strawberry shortbread. I have all the intelligence and sensitivity of a piece of donkey shit. To make it up to you, I'll go out and buy you something else. What would you like? Chocolate mousse? Cheesecake?"

"So then what?"

"So then I'd give him all the love he deserves for what he's done."

"Sounds crazy to me."

"Well, to me, that's what love is. Not that anyone can understand me, though." Midori gave her head a little shake against my shoulder. "For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly. From something like that or it doesn't begin at all."

Murakami, H. (2000). Norwegian Wood (page 93). Great Britain: The Harvill Press.

***



Reading this page has somehow awaken one of the old memories that I cherish as well as been trying to abandon. Memory that forces me to look deeper into myself and not be afraid of what I might find there. Hoping for the better, apparently somebody has stolen my key and left the door wide opened for me to discover. Leaving nothing but traces that lead to nowhere.

He is gone. Yet I am still searching.. feeling all alone.. and empty...


Let me be in a nice beautiful meadow. I'll run as far as the eyes can see, I'll scream in joy till the last of the air left in my lungs, I'll look at the flowers as long as my eyes can hold their gaze onto, I'll be happy as long as it could last. I just can't get enough of these. And If i ask for more, will there be the deepest level of understanding and selfless love and care available for me? I suppose I have been too selfish. Trying to fit everything into the picture didnt turned into a perfection as it turned out that the perfect selfishness gives room only for me in the picture.

So selfish i was, i refused to see the imperfection. Instead, I brought the disconnections to everything. More things I did, more confuse I got, and more blur everything seemed.

Whats the price for the perfection, i paid my price.



I havent quite yet finished reading this book. I started to read this book when I had to wait for my plane back to Jakarta at Frankfurt airport for 7 hours. The reading was all planned as I knew it would be terribly boring to get stranded in the airport for such a long time without anything really specific to do. Thus I decided to read a book. I chose this book as I love the author. When I was in Taiwan, I used to spend some time to stay in the library and looked for some interesting books. The books by Haruki Murakami were ones that got me.

I enjoy reading. However, still sometimes I got carried away with all things to be done that dont include reading. Recently, I feel the urge of reading again. Reading is nice!