Alone in a cabin, 3 days - kafka on the shore.

It rains hard a couple times, but doesn't last, and each time I run outside, naked, to wash myself.

Sometimes I get all sweaty excercising, rip off my clothes, and sunbathe on the porch.

I drink a lot of tea and concentrate on reading, sitting on the porch or by the stove.

Books on history, science, folklore, mythology, sociology, psychology, Shakespeare, you name it.

Instead of racing straight through, I reread the parts I think are most important till I understand them,

To get something tangible out of them.

All sorts of knowledge seeps, bit by bit, into my brain.

I imagine how great it'd be to stay here as long as I wanted,

There are lots of books on the shelf I'd like to read, still plenty of food.

But I know I'm just passing through and will have to leave before long.

This place is too calm, too natural - too complete.

I don't deserve it.

At least not yet.