My second exam is tomorrow. I’m glad it’s soon over. Tired of studying to it.
In another ‘world’, I rented a new book by one of my favorite writer, Haruki Murakami. It’s called Sputnik Sweetheart and is about a young girl falling in love with an older woman. Quite interesting, but thats not what I wanted to mention. One part of this book reminded me about myself. How I sometimes think about me. I know it’s not often I really really talk about how I am and how I feel. “Anywho”, here is the quote…
I find it hard to talk about myself. I’m always tripped up by the
eternal who am I? paradox. Sure, no one knows as much pure
data about me as me. But when I talk about myself, all sorts of
other factors—values, standards, my own limitations as an
observer—make me, the narrator, select and eliminate things
about me, the narratee. I’ve always been disturbed by the
thought that I’m not painting a very objective picture of myself.