Diary

Of all the cool gifts I got this year, this was undoubtedly the coolest:

My copy probably has a different serial number and far, far less Japanese characters in the background.

The Murakami Diary for 2009, which came from my dear eldest sister, who got it for ₤9.99 according to the receipt I found in the book, much to her chagrin.

So here I am, with a diary whose theme involves one of the few giants in contemporary literature. This is a good thing, this, because in my opinion, I lack practice and skill in writing short and meaningful paragraphs.

This diary has a small slot for each day of the year 2009.

Every time somebody gives me a notebook or a diary, it ends up gathering dust in one corner until I finish the current notebook I have with me and find the need to continue writing on a new leaf, so to speak.

Add the fact that most of my writing is done via the computer these days, which explains the dearth of decent hand-written works from myself for around three years and counting.

A page from within the diary. Notice the snippets from Murakami's expansive body of work and the delicate page design.

With this, though, comes a challenge: each day should contain a snippet of thought from yours truly, written as carefully as I could ever muster so as not to put myself to shame by pitting my own words against the works of a master I truly truly admire.

BTW, for those of you who were wondering: yes, I did get a shirt this Christmas. We shall not talk any more of it; just know that it is orange and nondescript. I also got a pair of socks and three sets of boxers. Nobody thought of giving me a shawarma-hock, but the nice pen and the diary more than makes up for the lack of bovine meat.