I get scared sometimes. My ability to get inside things and leave this world is enormous, it's like jumping a cliff, it's like being on air in this gigantic fall where I can see the pine forest on the bottom, always at the same scary distance. Books, movies, music, I can always get out of this world and jump one character to another, feeling everything like it's on my skin.
I told you, my darling, didn't I? that I live in a world of my own, right? I told you that my reality is different, that I'm not happy with this system, with these people, with humanity and with the fact that there are no wild cats running free in our woods. And I told you that in my world, Adolfo is a lion and my apartment is a small house in the forest and my work is full of beautiful people. I think we had time for the reality discussion, the truth doesn't exist but in our eyes and each one of us can, activelly, select the truth we choose to see. I remember, we were by the river side and I asked you if a butterfly had just passed by in front of us, and I saw it and you didn't, and it was the high moment of my day, how could we have the same reality of the end of the day? You, always pragmatic, answered that you believe in truth, the absolute one, and that only our brains are to simple to understand it.
Well, I am, as always, getting away from the point. What I meant to tell, my sweet soft hands boy, is that I am scared. Yesterday spent the afternoon reading your "Kafka by the shore". At first I was so happy - how can a stranger, after one dinner and one afternoon, select me such a perfect book, how could you read me so well. It's not easy to choose books for me. My older sister, who knows me since before I was born, misses 50% of the times. My brother in law is very good at it and now I'm starting to think that he is a little like me on the inside. But you? When everything in your world is the opposite of mine, who's life story never gave you flowers, and ice-creams by the sea, who never had the possibility of being 8 and spending the whole afternoon on the room floor surrounded by books and watercolours, who could you be so perfect on your choice?
But then, my dear, I'm thinking it might to be too much for me. I'm getting inside of it to the point that after 5 minutes of reading I'm no longer here, like I am in Japan, and I'm Sakura (there is a translation note the first time her name appears - Sakura - Cherry, Cherry Blossom, Cherry Tree and I hear us, in the car, Air playing Cherry Blossom Girl and me telling you that I am cherry blossom girl and you looking at my right shoulder and understanding and me explaining that maybe that was not such a good idea and you asking the tattoo? and me saying that it was not the tattoo itself, but the symbol and you said yes, cherry blossoms are the symbol of death) and you Kafka and you Nakata, the loneliest boys away from home and yesterday, just around 5pm you killed Johnnie Walker and I was so scared that I run to the gym, took 2 classes - gluteus and abs followed by pilates - just to get myself together, put all the energy down to a level where I would be able to sleep without calling you for a hug.
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