all hail jap lit (part ii; a hasty post)

life seems to be pretty sad if i am awake at 2am (almost) fangirling about a book that i am not even one-third through, especially if the novel centers around a morbid topic like death (& it seems to be more tragic that there is no one up to ride on my excitement with me so i feel like all this pent-up exhilaration is craving for an outlet, almost like magma chafing at the seams of the magma chamber, ready to burst but not quite yet) 

& perhaps something is wrong with me bc why am i getting so excited about an idea so lifeless & simultaneously distant as aforementioned? but this book is opening my eyes to things that i have been staring at for so long that i cease to see them (e.g. i was humming & singing to myself counting stars bc it had been ringing in my head all day thanks to external influences, & then when i was combing my hair in the mirror & voicing out "everything that kills me makes me feel alive" - such an innocuous expression in context of the song, i froze & my blood ran cold bc it framed, in a few words, the entire gist of what i had hitherto read) 

so, on the contrary, i think that life is gr8 now that i am finally reading books that i actually want to read, bc "now is the time to read books that (i) have not been assigned" - a.p. (& a loud amen to that) 

also i feel like our (the protagonist's & my) minds are congruent - even though she is fictional and a fragment of ozeki's imagination. how is it possible that we have such startlingly similar thoughts about the notion of time; i almost screamed when my eyes glossed over words that are so familiar but aren't even mine. (i think this epitomises the joy of reading) 

on a sidenote: i think that i need to stand my ground - i can feel myself being shaped by admirable influences around me that i am changing to become a replica of someone else, which is quite unacceptable.