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The walking talking Office.

  1/5/2025 9:53 AM This is the time that I am all excited about everything. It’s early morning, the sun is up but shrouded by clouds and it’s cold outside. So where was I? Yes. It’s cold morning and I just had my cup of coffee and now I am ready to take on the world. Yes, that’s what I am feeling right now. Morning is the time when I can focus on a task and actually complete it. Between learning Japanese and Painting, I chose to express my feelings by typing here on my memoir. Huh. You know Inspiration, motivation type shit, ya that shit comes to me early in the morning after a cup of coffee. Man, the easiest way to express things is with words I believe. Painting requires a lot of thought process and takes a lot of time. Between those times, you get frustrated because things don't go exactly as you want during the process and you feel like abandoning the piece of artwork. BUT! If you can express yourself through art rather than words, by all means, Please do. It’s one of the skill...
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Norwegian Wood

 Murakami's book makes me feel like I am the character living in Tokyo and doing the usual shit. It's like living a different life. Like the secret life of Toru Watanabe (in the case of Norwegian Wood) Because it's a simple slice-of-life story where every character has their own struggle and their own problems. Just like a real life. People are flawed and they try to do stuff to fill this hole in their life. As a first-person reader, we as the main characters and observers, begin to connect with them, and .. Murakami's way of setting the scene is absolutely fantastic. The way he goes to detail explains to us the mood and clothes and everything. I feel like I am in that place and the moment is in fact, happening. There is no way to doubt when there is no fancy magical shit. Just me and Reiko sitting on a stack of salt sacks in a closed storeroom or me and Midori drinking whiskey with pistachio. That's the kind of vividness I like about the book. I love How I can pict...
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There is a garden

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  There is a garden  There is a garden where dreams are shared  There is a garden where hearts are dared  From blossoming flowers to braided leaves Where words are woven with cups of tea I often wonder why such wonders exist  And dream about dreams and time I have missed To stop and relax to the sound of trees  Such sunny heat with a winter breeze We talked for hours about nothing at all We took a sip of tea and watched the leaves fall. To be how peculiar as an observer of nature. To wonder such wonders and be in awe with pleasure. The earth, the stars, and the heaven above have stuck in the garden vines. There is a garden where we meet sometimes. and talk about everything but love. There is a garden not far from here where chairs are made of steel But sit and relax, enjoy the moment enjoy whatever you feel How big is the garden? How many trees you ask I don’t know. I say but we should go and pay. Homage to the gardener who did the task. 
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