Free The Elephant Vanishes by Haruki Murakami

too seriously. I have no intention of marrying her. If I thought about getting married, I’m sure I’d begin taking her seriously, and I’d lose all confidence that I could carry on from that point. I mean, that’s how it is. You live with a girl and these things start to get to you—her teeth aren’t exactly straight, the shape of her fingernails—how can you expect to go on like that?
    L ET ME SAY a little more about myself.
    No knocking this time.
    If you’ve listened this far, you might as well hear me out.
    Just a second. I need a smoke.
    [Rattle, rattle]
    Up to now, I’ve hardly said a word about myself. Like, there’s really not that much to say. And even if I did, probably nobody would find it terribly interesting.
    So why am I telling you all this?
    I think I already told you, it’s because now my sights are set on the Nobility of Imperfection.
    And what touched off this Nobility of Imperfection idea?
    Your letter and four kangaroos.
    Yes, kangaroos.
    Kangaroos are such fascinating creatures, I can look at themfor hours on end. What can kangaroos possibly have to think about? The whole lot of them, jumping around in their cage all day long, digging holes now and again. And then what do they do with these holes? Nothing. They dig them and that’s it. Ha, ha, ha.
    Kangaroos give birth to only one baby at a time. So as soon as one baby is born, the female gets pregnant again. Otherwise the kangaroo population would never sustain itself. This means the female kangaroo spends her entire life either pregnant or nursing babies. If she’s not pregnant, she’s nursing babies; if she’s not nursing babies, she’s pregnant. You could say she exists just to ensure the continuance of the species. The kangaroo species wouldn’t survive if there weren’t any kangaroos, and if their purpose wasn’t to go on existing, kangaroos wouldn’t be around in the first place.
    Funny about that.
    B UT I’M GETTING ahead of myself. Excuse me.
    T O TALK about myself, then.
    Actually, I’m extremely dissatisfied with being who I am. It’s nothing to do with my looks or abilities or status or any of that. It simply has to do with being me. The situation strikes me as grossly unfair.
    Still, that doesn’t mean you should write me off as someone with a lot of gripes. I have not one complaint about the place where I work or about my salary. The work is undeniably boring, but then, most jobs are boring. Money is not a major issue here.
    Shall I put it on the line?
    I want to be able to be in two places at once. That is my one and only wish. Other than that, there’s not a thing I desire.
    Yet being who and what I am, my singularity hampers this desire of mine. An unhappy lot, don’t you think? My wish, if anything, is rather unassuming. I don’t want to be ruler of the world, nor do I want to be an artist of genius. I merely want to exist in two places simultaneously. Got it? Not three, not four, only
two
. I want to be roller-skating while I’m listening to anorchestra at a concert hall. I want to be a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder and still be a clerk in the product-control section of the department store. I want to sleep with you and be sleeping with my girlfriend all the while. I want to lead a general existence and yet be a distinct, separate entity.
    A LLOW ME one more cigarette.
    Whoa.
    Getting a little tired.
    I’m not used to this, speaking so frankly about myself.
    There’s just one thing I’d like to get clear, though. Which is that I do not lust after you sexually as a woman. Like I told you, I am angry at the fact that I am only myself and nothing else. Being a solitary entity is dreadfully depressing. Hence I do not seek to sleep with you, a solitary individual.
    If, however, you were to divide into two, and I split into two as well, and we four all shared the same bed together, wouldn’t that be something! Don’t you think?
    P LEASE SEND no reply. If you decide you want to write me a letter, please send it