Murakami's Wind-Up Bird

I was in my bed when I finished reading Haruki Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. After I read the final word on the book, I closed it and gazed at the cover for quite a while, trying to imagine exactly what this ending really meant. It was sudden, but at the same time, powerful and leaves so much meaning behind it. Looking through the book, flipping the pages, I've noticed that in this book, there are so many connections to name, almost to the point where it would confuse the reader and send him off into a surreal and extremely imaginative world. This book is like a dream; it makes the reader ponder in so many different ways about so many different things that the possibilities are endless. It is not just an ordinary novel, but an experimental one. You, the reader, have to imagine what's going on. It's not straightforward at all. But overall it was probably one of the most brilliant books I have ever read thus far. It temporarily messed with my mind, and gave me a mild nightmare, which is also interesting because I finished this book late at night. And the time I finished it was scarily coincidental. I looked at the clock and it was exactly 2am. Exactly. The minute hand was pointing straight up on the 12. What coincidence, I thought.
The very next day when I checked to see what was for lunch at school, it was pasta.