#booksociety

“Someone needs to tell those tales. When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of Lapsang souchong, someone needs to tell their bits of overlapping narrative. There’s magic in that. It’s in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict. From the mundane to the profound. You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift. Your sister may be able to see the future, but you yourself can shape it, boy. Do not forget that… there are many kinds of magic, after all.”

~Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

Darcy this and Darcy that, bruh I want myself a Lizzy Bennet; sassy, loves books, will not hesitate to shoot you down, literally and figuratively,probably loves to stay at home.

Sometimes heartbreak isn’t experienced just from losing a lover; sometimes it’s at 3 in the morning and you miss your best friend that you don’t talk to anymore, sometimes it’s when you see a picture of a place you used to live in but you’re very far from it now, sometimes it’s from the stories and poems you read and hear about or when you miss the taste of a home-cooked meal. The human heart is so strong yet so fragile because although it is made of muscle we see and hear and listen and feel and love a bit too much about everything.

Sometimes I read so I don’t have to be stuck inside my mind with my thoughts, sometimes I read when I feel burnt out and feel like giving up and letting go of everything, sometimes I read when I feel like the world is against me and there’s no one I can rely on so I escape to a different world instead. But mostly I read because of the stories I can relate to, to the happiness, sadness, and struggles of people who exist only on paper and in my imagination.

You know that feeling when you’re in your room and you have your earphones one and you’re just dancing to a song. Or that feeling when taking late night walks or talking with friends for hours and not realising how time went by so quickly? It’s in these times that I fall a little bit in love with life, a little bit out of reality and makes everything a bit better.

When I die there’s not gonna be any will left behind, all you’re getting is probably my three thousand unread books which I spent all my money on.

Your 20s are as a confusing time as your teenage years, because you have this realisation of new responsibilities and adulthood but you still feel like you’re a child, and you keep on looking at adults to tell you if you’re doing something wrong except you yourself are an adult now, and you keep second guessing yourself through things with faked confidence while also having a nervous meltdown inside, and it feels so freeing but scary at the same time, kinda like the first time you cross the road by yourself.

Ever wonder how many records in history are wrong? How many confessions have been changed to protect someone? How many people have actually been lost in a war ? People who were wrongly accused of a crime ? How much our our history textbooks is fact ?

Only thing keeping me going these days is my fantasy to live in a secluded mansion with my ten cats and secret library.

Fuck zodiac signs, which three fictional characters’ personality did you borrow ?

What I would give to see two authors from different timelines collaborate. Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie collab where Sherlock Holnes and Hercule Poirot solve a case together. CHAOTIC. They would get on each other’s nerves for sure. Or a story about Dracula and Carmilla where they’re the type of friends that repeatedly insult each other, all the while looking classy and rich af. ICONIC.

I have books I love; and then I have books that keep me up at night, thinking, analysing, arguing about a character’s choices, dreaming of ‘what if’ scenarios; people that I relate to on a personal level,getting into debates that at one point I don’t know if I’m arguing for a character or for myself.

It’s harder to take the easier path. When you’re living in a society that encourages grind culture. it’s harder for people to choose the easier path because we’re afraid of how society will view us as ‘weak’. But just because you took the easy way out doesn’t mean that you’re giving up; sometimes taking the easy way out means being kind to yourself and putting yourself first, it means patience to gain the strength to do what you want.

Sometimes I wonder if people are only kind because they are told that being kind leads to good karma and good things; so doesn’t that mean people are only kind because it benefits them? But then I remember a stranger running after me in the rain because I dropped some money, a cashier going the extra mile to help me with my things, a store manager helping when I didn’t have enough money on me and I think that kindness is a choice that we make but mostly it is a choice we make unconsciously; no ulterior motives whatsoever and most of the time our actions strive for good.

Therapy? Pfft who needs that when you psychoanalyse yourself after every mental breakdown ahahhaaha.

I have a huge amount of respect for authors who have the strength to kill off their main characters. Because in some stories death is the only peace and mercy that can be given to that character, it is the only way they can be at peace with themselves; as a person who loves the character, yes I would inevitably cry but as a reader who loves the story, I’d be content knowing that the author gave the readers an ending fit for the story and a lesson that not all stories have a happy ending. Tell me which story this was for you.

I feel like some books you just understand it better at a different age. Like high school me didn’t get the humour behind Pride and Prejudice till I read it again a couple years later in college and I absolutely loved it. Similarly I can never have that happy glazed eye look after reading Harry Potter the way I did when I was 11 because there are so many things I nitpick about it now. I still love the series but at the same time I can’t accept some parts of the story that 11 year old me would have taken for granted.