[randomness] silly little shroom;
Its funny how a book can rip you apart, or maybe it's just that I'm that soft (too soft), that immediately drawn in by the language and the landscapes, the poetry and the people. Maybe its just that I get too attached to the beauty of it all. Eitherway, I am trying not to scoff at myself and be understanding of this renewed ability to cry, to sob, to be incoherent and just feel.
I finished Kay's The Lions of Al-Rassan the night before last. The last few pages have traces of tears, but I set it away from me and held my hand over my mouth as I struggled with the last few pages. No sense ruining the book with my blubbering.
Spent something close to an hour hiccupping to Kam on the phone, unable to finish a sentence while sitting in the furthest corner of my bed, facing a wall. Silly little thing, Noey. Sending self to the time-out corner to cry.
Left it at home today. Knew that if I didn't, I'd be incoherent again and I can't have that. But I wish I had brought it with me though. I would have wanted to share one of the poems.
I finished Kay's The Lions of Al-Rassan the night before last. The last few pages have traces of tears, but I set it away from me and held my hand over my mouth as I struggled with the last few pages. No sense ruining the book with my blubbering.
Spent something close to an hour hiccupping to Kam on the phone, unable to finish a sentence while sitting in the furthest corner of my bed, facing a wall. Silly little thing, Noey. Sending self to the time-out corner to cry.
Left it at home today. Knew that if I didn't, I'd be incoherent again and I can't have that. But I wish I had brought it with me though. I would have wanted to share one of the poems.