The year is looking like it is coming to a close. The rains are here and they moisten the soil like massaging the souls of everyone. 2010 is but a year, and there will be another year soon. Next year, there must be change. Radical, if not moderate. I'm leaving this year at this point, like a departure from the heavy periods of intensity that are roaring inside me. I have been reading Murakami. And I thought that it is rare to be connecting with this little part of the book. From Norwegian Wood, it reads:
'Please forgive me for not answering sooner. But try to understand. It took me a very long time before I was in any condition to write, and I have started this letter at least ten times. Writing is a painful process for me.'