I enjoy a lot reading the work of Haruki Murakami in Japan, and in this visit to Tokyo, I chose his short story Sputnik No Koibito as the reading guide of my transition. The story is built on the mistaken Beatnik into human's first satellite 'Sputnik'...
Along Murakami's belief of human dislocation in the modern world, the free orbit of the satellite shows the best perspective of humanity of the city. Reading his story is like scratching the icy surface of interpersonal separation in distance. The book gave me a conclusive retro of 2007 in this late Novemeber moment, where Sputnik has marked a unique year of displacement of my voyage of cold mood. The intermission at Tokyo simply reminded me a remarkable ending of the kid age of adventurous moment. When I was flowing on the shuttle bus, I recalled a distant and yet repetitive sounds of coq in the early morning of a nearby neighborhood in my childhood residential area. It was refreshing, but dreamy-ful. It was more than surrealistic to the present analytic mind. The recall was specially revolving. In the collage of living moments, the mood was for the capacity of the shuttle bus that drove me from the contemplation to the inspiration. Another day comes.
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