What I learned from reading Haruki Murakami
There was a time in my life where I had very few connections of my own, but each one was too strange to explain. I remember the anxiety creeping in…was I the only one surrounded by such weird and dark people? Why couldn’t I just sit down with normal humans, share a conversation, and feel like I understood them, or more importantly, that they understood me? On the surface, nothing about my situation was particularly surreal, but my overactive brain (how many stories should I share) twisted it into something far more complex…too many emotions, too much mental static for me to handle. That’s what I learned from reading Haruki Murakami, that magical realism isn’t just confined to novels but to real life!
