When I was a kid, I used to read a lot. Comics, books, magazines, and even newspapers. I'd spent countless hours just poring over something one after the other. Being a fast reader din't hurt, either. I used to be able to finish 2 short books on a good day. Sadly, the years have robbed me of that luxury. When I started working and earning money, I found a lot of other stuff to do besides reading. Time management issues, maybe? I really don't know. Anyway this year, I resolved to read more. More BOOKS, to be exact. God knows I need a little more culture and learning in my life. I picked up a few books here and there, but I wasn't able to finish most of them. None of them really captured my attention.

That was until I read Haruki Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun.

I'm really not familiar with Murakami's work, although I've been hearing some good things about his books from some of my friends so when I saw that Tin had a copy, I immediately borrowed it.

I loved it, although I have to admit I sometimes got thrown off by some parts. I found a few chapters where he seems so repetitive in his narrative, and in some parts he writes about something, then goes back to a certain point, like he forgot to mention some important things. Might be a lost in translation kind of problem, but yeah ( I wish I spoke the language so I could read it in the original Japanese lulz). Other than that, it is a beautiful book, full of masterfully-crafted words and prose. Why I can relate to the story of one man and his midlife crisis is beyond me though. I mean, I just turned 30 this year and I----- waittaminnit.

Highly recommended reading, this one.