Almost Transparent Blue (1976) was written by Ry? Murakami (b. 1952) while he was a student at Musashino Art University, where he was enrolled in the sculpture program. It was his first novel and was awarded the Akutagawa Prize (Japan’s “most sought after” literary prize; previous winners include Kobo Abe and Kenzaburo Oe) and sold ~1.2 million copies (~1% of Japan’s population at-the-time) in six months.
A girl who reads possesses a vocabulary that can describe that amorphous discontent as a life unfulfilled—a vocabulary that parses the innate beauty of the world and makes it an accessible necessity instead of an alien wonder.
She was immersed in things I’d only heard of before, like Debutantes, season tickets to the Orange County Performing Arts Center, new Volvo sedans, Pescetarianism, Whole Foods, art show openings, family alumni in Ivy League universities, famous relatives who were active or once active in the art world…
Such moments become fiercely guarded, protected and cherished memories and subsequently, the recall of such memories is often the precursor to small mental breakdowns, large mental breakdowns, and evolution-of-a-relationship montages in movies, specifically circa 1980 and 1990.
Sex involving two partners shouldn’t have anything to do with Victoria Secret catalogs, Penelope Cruz, or any TV/movie love/romance/sex scene that once impressed you so deeply that it’s actually become a part of your sexual repertoire. Sex doesn’t have to be loud, it doesn’t have to be graceful, and you don’t have to roll your eyes to the back of your head to show your pleasure.
Take over a building. Why not the library? All you need to do is show up and then refuse to leave. It is the most effective way of getting your point (perhaps justice in a far away land) across and in no way inconveniences other students. Make sure to bring your nalgene full of greentea and your macbook, because you may be there for hours!
I get tested every three months not because I need to, but because I have a sick fear that is obviously rooted in some other mental disturbance. HIV just gets to be its face.
Today Erin’s life is very ho-hum. Her husband Jim goes to work at a place called Christian World while she lounges in her bra and booty shorts, smokes meth and hangs out with her friends. When she tires of that, Erin invites her boyfriend over-the one who truly understands her-and the two have wild passionate sex on top of a phonebook or a seesaw.