“Dreams Are the Kind of Things You Can Borrow and Lend Out”

I always love Murakami’s work. The title of this post comes from a new short story published in the New Yorker. Here’s more:

When I moved from Kansai to Tokyo to start college, I spent the whole bullet-train ride mentally reviewing my eighteen years and realized that almost everything that had happened to me was pretty embarrassing. I’m not exaggerating. I didn’t want to remember any of it—it was so pathetic. The more I thought about my life up to then, the more I hated myself. It wasn’t that...