love it.

So... i went to the library to try and look for some stuff on Jhumpa Lahiri and Jorge Luis Borges.. for my research paper... and... i had been planning to do my paper on Borges, but then i was beginning to think about switching it to Lahiri because i just love her.. butttt... the guy who helped me at the library said that he thinks i'd probably have better luck finding more things on Borges (even though his actual literature is more challenging to read than Lahiri)..and so i stuck with Borges! & the guy.. or man, whatever u wanna call him, that works at the library knew so much! i was like thanks dude! you really helped out =) ANYWAYYY... this is not the point of my post... the point of it is..:

Afterwards, i went to look for the Murakami book i had returned a few days before... and upon finding it, i ALSO found other Murakami books.. one of them being "After Dark." The cover reminded me of something i'd seen in "Lost in Translation," and so, considering i'm a fan of that movie, the cover sorta drew me in... i opened to the first page... and wowww... i found myself smiling and shaking my head side to side thinking "Murakami, you're so clever." i totally want to read the book now but i have too much hmwk... so i'm going to try and read it over spring break. =) but yeah... here's the opening paragraph =) hopefully i'm not the only one who'll enjoy it:

"Eyes mark the shape of the city.
Through the eyes of a high-flying night bird, we take in the scene from midair. In our broad sweep, the city looks like a single gigantic creature-- or more like a single collective entity created by many interwining organisms. Bountless arteries stretch to the ends of its elusive body, circulating a continuous supply of fresh blood cells, sending out new data and collecting the old, sending out new consumables and collecting the old, sending out new contradictions and collecting the old. To the rhythm of its pulsing, all the parts of the body flicker and flare up and squirm. Midnight is approaching, and while the peak of activity has passed, the basal metabolism that maintains life continues undiminished, producing the basso continuo of the city's moan, a monotonous sound that neither rises nor falls but is pregnant with foreboding."