Monday, June 07, 2004

i began reading the wind-up bird chronicle when i was sprawled out on the tiled floor of an empty house in the san fernando valley, a shipwreck of a home now, things hastily moved out, except for a few phone books and some old action figures that no one really wants to keep. as toru okada climbed down a dried-up well and looked up to see a half-moon full of stars, i was lying in the beach, forming half of a sand angel with the left side of my body. when he decided not to run away to the mediterranean ocean with the psychic prositute, i wanted to dip my head in the pacific ocean and imagine what would happen to him if he did. (no i didn't ruin a plot twist.)