hello butterfly

Smack in the middle of dreary routines and meaningless actions, it hit you. So fluid and sudden you didn't even realize it at first, you were just caught in the music and you sang along, danced a little to the tune, and before you could say hello, it hit you full-force, swept you off your feet.

The tornado of feeling, the sudden surge of sensation, so new yet familiar, took you to the past but only briefly, because your new found sanity guarded you oh so protectively.

But that glimpse was more than enough. More, and it could be harmful. Just one little gesture that justified those tossing and turning on depressing sleepless nights, an itch so disturbing no amount of vodka could cure.

And in a split second it happened. No bells ringing, no alarm of any kind. It was just there, an opportunity for you to grab, without prologues or further explanations. All you needed to do was absorb, with childlike openness and soak the moment.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the best kind of high.

w is for what the f?

Wondering not so discreetly, why incredibly stupid people actually are running this so-called advanced capitalist society. I'm not asking for compassionate people, or even nice. I'm merely asking for competent people doing what they are supposed to be doing, so I could be spared 5 hour long meeting with utterly confused people, who hide their incompetence by unstoppable chatters, yapping and yapping as if their mouths suffered from severe case of diarrhea.

People, really, get over yourself!

an inflammable disposition

she bubbled in childish excitement, over things, silly things, they didn't matter
spontaneous actions, words, she didn't think them over, she was just in this light pink mood, as sweet as cotton candy

she didn't mean anything

but something, something other than her was bothering him, eating him up, igniting him
and he burst into flame, so red, so hot, the anger burned quickly, tongue of fire was licking her from down to the top of her head

hear her, she crackles she burns, she burns...

you see, she was built like that, inflammable, combustible

you see, there is no technology to revive the residue of fire

they just turn to ashes, black

my perfect love, murakami style

"I'm looking for selfishness. Perfect selfishness. Like, say I tell you I want to eat strawberry shortcake. 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 shortcake out to me. And I say I don't want it anymore and throw it out the window. That's what I'm looking for."

Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami