Quotes from "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle"

A few quotes that I jotted down as I read "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" by Haruki Murakami.

"Spend your money on the things money can buy. Spend your time on the things money can’t buy." 

"I realize full well how hard it must be to go on living alone in a place from which someone has left you, but there is nothing so cruel in this world as the desolation of having nothing to hope for." 

"To know one’s own state is not a simple matter. One cannot look directly at one’s own face with one’s own eyes, for example. One has no choice but to look at one’s reflection in the mirror. Through experience, we come to believe that the image is correct, but that is all." 

"In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with someone else. It's important to combine the two in just the right amount."

"He inherited from his mother's stories the fundamental style he used, unaltered, in his own stories: namely, the assumption that fact may not be truth, and truth may not be factual."

HuMaN Nature

Infinite silence.

Eternal darkness.

Yet time is moving at an incredible pace.

I have no direct control of when time will stop or how exactly I will depart, that is for the Higher to decide. My existence is flawed, yet I was created to be a beacon of perfection. When I am assigned a form to fill, a new objective is required of me.

Destroying.

Liberating.
Loving.
Hating.

Creating.

Ruling and destroying yet again.

Bound by shackles that confine any sort of freedom, I sit and wait, in my traveling bubble, transcending space and time. Restricted to live in isolation until my duties are called upon. My glass palace (for I cannot call it a prison) floats through nebulas, galaxies, systems and the infinite vacant. I've seen stars die and new ones created. Creation and destruction of planets...

The Highers see what I see, and this pleases them. My freedom never stripped away, because I've not known freedom since my creation. I live but do not breathe, for I am not created like every other man. For man is born, and then he is formed. I am the former, the molder, the creator of such things. I am the voice in their heads that tells them to do this, but not that.

I have been in control by the Highers forever and every mission that I was expected to complete I did. I've been the words of warring tribes, disheartened citizens and bloodthirsty warriors. I've been the tenacity of leaders and the grandeur of rulers. I've been the kisses and quarrels of lovers. I've been the opposite of that which is good, and that which is evil.

I...am not flawed. I am perfection. Floating onward, inward and outward through the naval of the universe, I am about to be born again, but as a savior or destroyer? 

Absolution (Post #2)

Continued from Part 1
...

There was a whisper in the wind, from behind the bars and underneath the door that said a man called the Monarch was looking for a few good men to accompany him on an expedition across the seas. It was supposed to be kept a secret, hidden away so the officials wouldn't get suspicious about a stranger taking citizens of the city on a trip towards imminent death. Only a few knew, most likely people who were associated with the Monarch himself. Of course I would think it obvious that he knew it would be hard to find anyone who would want to venture out into the free seas, to see a world unlike any other. Most of the people are quite content with sitting behind their desks, working from dusk till dawn and sitting in front of their television until it is time to sleep.

I'm not one of those people, not anymore. I cannot stand the drab dreary excuse of a life that I am standing in any longer. Tonight I will go seek out the Monarch and escape the pitiless backwater of endless monotony. It is the willpower and courage that I have built up for so many years that will help me break away from these chains.

I am to meet a contact at the bar Fisherman's Horizon, down by the docks, near the anchorage. Getting to my destination however might prove to be difficult. Believe it when I say that there are very few people who roam the streets at night. Mostly workers going home from a late shift, or people with a sense of shadiness about them, stalking the corners away from the lampposts. There was an armed guard at every crossroad, whether it be for protection or fear I do not know, both seem like plausible explanations.

Heavy clouds covered the city tonight, a thick fluffy soup of pollution and ocean water whirled in the sky above. It was never a wise choice to go traversing about the streets when it was raining out, especially with such filthy water dropping from the upper atmosphere. The rain wasn't coming down very hard tonight, a mixture of mist and light fall splattering the stone cobbles of the streets. I am wearing a hooded raincoat that covers my head to about my mid thigh, a trusty piece of equipment when I had to go home after a late night working in the coal mines of the Southern District. There is no love attached to my profession, and I will not miss the sulfur infused caves one bit. My lungs, already poisoned by inhaling sulfur for five years has had enough, and so did I. I am ready to take in the freshest of air, swim in the cleanest of waters and live the life of an adventurer at sea. First I must find my way to the Fisherman's Horizon.

With my backpack filled with canned foods, a flask of whiskey and official papers identifying me as who I am, I was ready to leave this place forever. With my backpack under my raincoat I tip-toe to the corner of the street that I grew up on my whole life. Street number 145 of 520, the same looking street as the next one hundred. Each house, each front lawn and the fences that separated them the same as the next, for as far as the eye can see. Nothing standing out of the ordinary but myself, huddled under a tree behind the corner lamp post, ready to make my escape out of this world and into the next. The pier where the bar was located was about a mile west of where I lived. All I had to do was follow street #140 until I hit the Naval Academy building, then sneak my way around and make myself towards the pier.

Half way there and I was surprised at the ease that it took to get as far as I did. The armed guards were sparse tonight, only one on every third or fourth crossroad. Perhaps the weather kept some of them inside instead, sipping on tea and looking out from a window inside a cozy home. The enforcement of the city wasn't very strictly coordinated. The officers would do as they wished, so long as the job was done. Nothing stopped an officer from patrolling the corners so long as he had his eyes on it. Whether that meant pacing the streets back and forth, or entering the home of a stranger and sitting by their front window as the rain continued to pitter-patter on the pavement. I was also being very careful with my steps, creeping quickly from one corner to the next, my feet gliding ever so softly across the silk water covered streets. My backpack kept tight and my raincoat flowing with the grace of my body made me appear as an apparition in the night, not exactly certain whether what you saw was really there or not. I felt a surge of excitement and relief the closer I got to my destination, but I was quickly brought back to a fearful reality when I felt a poke on my shoulder and a voice from behind me.

Chances

Why do people never want to see the world through your eyes? Is it a torturous endeavor that is filled with horrors and hopelessness? Sure, there are times when people converse about their feelings, their ideas and opinions but where has that lead us? Political conflicts, clashing races and a 50% divorce rate. Is it the irrepressible voice of our egos that reminds us to listen to what people have to say, but ultimately do what your head is telling you, because who else can you trust but yourself?

And why has the social game changed so much? Everyone is dealt three cards, three chances to really show the other player who you really are. Sometimes you'll get lucky and pick up a card that gives you more opportunities to show yourself in the best light, show who you really are so the other player can reciprocate a shared emotion. The stakes are high and you seem like you really hit the mark with this person, and everything is going well. But this is a game right, nothing is what it seems. Not until something out of your realm of control appears and screws everything up. It's that one card in the deck, that if you draw, you automatically lose. You don't know why, and you curse at the fact, but rules are rules, and unfortunately you drew the card that ends it all.

Now in the social game, don't you think you can solve such problems with strong effective conversation between two people? I think you can, but the way this works out can be very different, and here you are proposed with yet another dilemma. How will this mending process take form? How can you prevent yourself from messing up more than you already have, or in another case, how can you show that other person how you really feel in order to win back their initial favor? It's a whole new game with a whole new set of rules.

In the end, it's up to the two people to work things out, hopefully for the better. Whether that takes days, weeks or even months, it's a decision they both have to make, without the worries of bluffing one another. I hope I can mend some of my mistakes, and I hope there are some people out there that will see through my eyes, and witness happiness and fulfillment. You can't win them all, but you can try your best every time.