Review and Update: What I'm Reading Now

First, let me give a review of Twenty-Eight and a half wishes by Denise Swank was a decent read.  I usually do not read mystery books but the main character, Rose, is relatable in many ways.  Innocent and tortured through her childhood.  An easy read for the most part - and just when you think the danger is done - Swank pulls out another twist.

I did not continue the series, partly because it wasn't on kindle unlimited, but also because I wasn't as interested as I could be in it.



Update on what I'm reading now:  The Curse Keeper series also by Denise Swank.

I'm enjoying this particular series as it relates to the spirit world and there are parts of the book that really... get a person going.

Gossamer - Lois Lowry: A Review

Gossamer was an interesting, delicate and tantalizing story with intertwining characters and a plot that left you, for lack of a better word, amused.  The telling of dream-givers begins with a little giver simply named "Littlest One" who is in training on giving dreams.  Her story intertwines with that of an elderly lady, a little boy, and a saddened mother, along with a few other, and older, dream givers.

One of the most interesting parts of this novel was the conflict Lowry creates by using the idea of "delving" too much for a dream giver creates a "Sinisteed".  The conflict between the dream-givers and the nightmare-givers is carefully thought up.

The novel seems to focus on the slow changes life brings about, for both humans and the imaginary dream givers.  The transition from trainee to giver, transition from hurt young boy to a calmer, more loving child and the transition from an abused, unorganized woman to a working mother trying to thrive for her child keeps the reader enthused and emotional while trapping the reader in an emotional connection with the characters.

A quote: "change means leaving things behind, and that's always sad."  

Some great words from the novel:  

Fastidious, Gossamer, Convoluted

Paper Towns - John Green: A Review

Perhaps I was too excited to read Paper Towns because it was written by one of my most favorite authors: John Green.  The quirky, yet highly talented author has stunned me with his more favorite books, such as: Looking for Alaska and The Fault in Our Stars.  With that being said, I found that Paper Towns was not what I had sincerely hoped for.

The story, agreeably, is interesting enough.  The two main characters, Quentin ("Q") and Margo share a miscommunicated romance that seems, at least to myself, rather vague and boring.  Furthermore - the teenage angst that occurs within the novel is offputting.  Margo, in my humble opinion, seemed to be a rather spoiled brat that just couldn't sit still long enough to think about her actions. Q, on the other hand, had some very interesting character developments that were a bit exciting.  A runaway girl with a boy who loves her and doesn't feel complete without her.... a teenage love story that made me feel bored.

For me, the book wasn't worth my reading or the money I spent on the digital download.  I think that, maybe, I have outgrown John Green and am ready to sprout into new directions, with more mature characters.  Don't let my review guide you away.  John Green's writing in Paper Towns is spectacular - but I feel that, for a growing young college girl, like myself, Green's 2008 novel is geared towards high schoolers - and high schoolers alone.

Growing

I was born into a thousand pieces.  Some pieces were put into people - some were put into places - and some were put into my fears.  Every time I meet someone new, or go to a new place and experience new things - or conquer a fear - I gather a piece and and grow just a bit.

For So Long

I have loved you for so long that I sometimes take you for granted.
I often forget that, in the entirety of this world, you are the only one who sees me.

Broken and whole.
Happy and sad.
Panicked and calm.
Sarcastic and somber.

You are a light that never stops shining in my life - when all others fail me.
I love you more than I love anyone else - you need to know at least that.

Anxiety

I've watched you die a thousand times and today is no different.  I've sliced at your neck, I've pierced your heart and I have poisoned you and yet you still resurrect each day. I never wanted this and I never wanted you, but here you are, begging me to let you live.

I won't.  I will kill you again today.  I will tell you to kneel at my feet and I will place my hand on your tiny square shoulders and say "Not today dear, today I put you down."  And I do.  I've hung you from the ceiling fan, thrown you off the white cliffs of Rugen and I've ran you over with a hundred different vehicles.

But here you are again. I used to let you share the space inside of me.  Taking up room that I was already using and destroying it so that nothing good could come of that space again.  I used to let you tell me what to do and all the while I let you kill me slowly, devour my smooth skin.  One day I evicted you and you left.  You took your baggage and garbage and you stomped out of my skin.  As you turned you looked defeated, your black skin was losing its sheen and you were fading.  I was more than happy to see you leave.

That next day, waking up was a relief instead of a burden and it was glorious to want to leave the bed you had made me stay in day after day, wasting away. I thought that you had left me for all eternity, but I had miscalculated your attachment to me.  I walked, with hope, to the mirror to check for signs of you.  I closed my eyes in a heartfelt sigh.  The occasion didn't last long.  After snapping my eyes back open, I screamed.  You were standing behind me with a sly, slick and slithery smile on your blackened face.  "Let me in, don't you miss me?" You hissed into my ear.  I twisted away from you and ran to the door of my apartment only to find you in front of me, blocking my escape.

I sprinted to the bedroom and closed my door, as quickly as I could muster.  You were still there.  "I go where you go, little one.  We are connected and you cannot be rid of me. No, no you can't" you giggle and launch yourself at me.  I scream at you to get off me, to let me go. "I don't enjoy your company, you are destroying me," I cry "you will destroy yourself!"  You only smirk at me again before you speak quietly "I am eternal, I live in many and I will live forever in the bodies of thousands. I cannot be destroyed."  During your self involved and self loving speech, I had reached over and grabbed my drawing pencil.  I was shaking, with fear and with desperation.  I whispered to you quietly "I will kill you" but you didn't hear me.  You opened your mouth to ask what I had said as I jammed my pencil into your eye socket and then into your black, oozing brain.

You disappeared and that was the first time I had killed you.  I will kill thousands of more times before I rest.  I will banish you from the my existence, from my world. Your rotting body will have no place inside of mine, I am my own master and you will not win this war.

Sunflower

My love of sun flowers began at a very early age.  My father would plant them, every year, outside the smallish white farmhouse that I spent all of my childhood loving - and hating.  He always planted the huge ones, stalks that stood as tall as the house itself, and they were my idols.  Those tall flowers towered in the yard, looking tall and proud, ever reaching towards the sun that let them prosper.

and I wanted to be like them.  Maybe that sounds weird to you - and it is a bit queer to want to be like a flower.  Sunflowers are simple and complex and while the rose is exclaimed and exalted as an idol of beauty the sunflower takes claim over the overcoming.  Besides, what use is a rose after it's wilted?  A sunflower provides nutrition and ironically, more life.

Sunshine

I would spend every waking moment

being near you, if I could,

wouldn't I?

I think, though, it would be like

staring at the sun.

Blinding. 

You are paradoxical,

spend too much time,

I am Icarus.

too little time
and it seems,
I am pluto.

You are my sun

and I'm in an everlasting

orbit.

Close enough to create

but not to close as to

destroy.

A perfect paradoxical

distance that makes 

perfect sense.  

Being with you lights a piece of my soul
on fire
with desire and longing.
The other half is pleasantly at peace
because I have finally found someone
who loves me just as much
as I love them.

Safe place.

My feelings for you, right in the moment, are complicated.  Sometimes I dislike you and the things you do; but I always have to remember that it is the little things you do that made me fall in love with you.

You are absolutely wonderful and also entirely infuriating.  I would never dare to say that what we have is any kind of fairy tale love, but it works for us.  You are my eternal sunshine, the place I can go when nothing is going right.

You are my safe place.

On self esteem and growing up

I have grown up in a world that is shallow.  Media demands perfection, has demanded perfection my entire life.  When I was younger, it was about who had the coolest new items; now it is about what size pants you can fit into.  I'm sure that my loving boyfriend, father and friends have watched me have a multiple breakdowns about my weight, my size and the fact that I am NOT a size four and probably never will be.

I was told, maybe indirectly, that being myself was NEVER good enough.  Ironically, I was told that being unique and being myself is what I should do, but only if it pleased others.  After all, I am a girl.  I am here to be aesthetically pleasing to the boys that never gave a damn about me.  

Even other girls are judgemental, even myself.  I was picked on when I was younger because I had no choice in the clothes I wore.  Two popular girls decided that I was going to be the target to their "popularity".  They pulled my skirt up only to expose what they laughed at as my "granny panties".  TO my knowledge, 10 year old girls weren't exactly wearing thongs yet.  

My point, is that, people tell me I have no reason to have self esteem issues. There are days that I cannot stand to look at myself in the mirror without hating every inch of what I see.  I get told that I'm "beautiful" but I have a very hard time believing it when the girls that actually get looked at are girls that watch every calorie and will never reach a size larger than 6.

The first time I saw you, you were astounding. A thing of aesthetic angles, lines.
and I was drowning in alcohol and feelings.
You were refreshing, like a cold drink of water or perhaps an ocean breeze.
and maybe that's what triggered my need, my want for you.

You seemingly picked me up and carried me home.
and I was lost again, without your lips. I craved you.
Needed the feeling of leather and skin.
Needed you.
Still need you.
To revive me and carry me home.

Issues

I take things too much for granted.  While I'm typing this, I mean that I take my better half, for granted.  Way too much.  Sure, sometimes he does almost nothing all day and leaves me with a sink full of dishes, (not always, sometimes he bucks up and does them) but I always forget to tell myself that doing the dishes is nothing in comparison to the amount of happiness, joy and love I receive from him. 

I suppose what I mean to say is that I have never been in a relationship where someone loves me, flaws and all.  I had always been told that I was not good enough, that I was not as pretty as other girls, that I wasn't on the right "path" for God, or that I was crazy.  

You've never said any of that to me.  Even when I insist that I am fat or chubby or heavy or whathaveyou, you always disagree. You always point out the parts of me that I don't find attractive.  You do all of this for me. I find that incredible. I find it amazing that you eat the food I make, even if it isn't always...good.  I find it awe-inspiring that you come home from work and you treat me like a person, even when you had a bad day.  (I also find that very saddening, as I hardly do the same for you.)  

Quite simply put, you really are my better half, and I love you.

I'm in trouble

You know those fights that you start where you know it's stupid
and then you keep fighting about it
even when you know you're overreacting
but you don't want to look like a crazy overprotective significant other?
And even though you feel bad you can't help but keep making terrible comments
until it gets completely out of hand.

I'm excellent in that area.

I don't believe in coincidence.  

I believe that every little thing happens for some specific reason. 

That people die to make others realize how wasteful they are with life.

That some people become crazy, that some people are born crazy.

I like to believe that every little thing that goes wrong is supposed to happen.

To make us stronger, smarter and wiser.

I believe that meeting you wasn't a coincidence.

You make me braver and smarter,

and sometimes angrier than I ever have been,

and you make me learn from all the little things

that go wrong.

Maybe fate,

at least the concept,

is ridiculous.

But I think fate had something to do

with you and me. 

Because without you, 

as a person, there are parts of

me that would have been lost 

in my most recent and difficult trials.

and I can't thank fate enough for that.

I do not think there is a universe where I can exist without you.

Just wanted to say that Doug Draper is the best boyfriend ever and I think he's great. :)

Good for me

There are a lot of things that are bad for me in this life.  Some of them are inevitable, some are by choice.  Sometimes, the situations in our lives can seem like bad things when they turn against us.

You, of all people, are not bad for me. You are the opposite of terrible for me, as a person.  You are good for me.  You make me stop and realize that it is not all about the big picture. That there is more to the story than the end result, and for that, you are good for me.  Happiness wasn't easily found before you. That makes you good for me.  You make me laugh and remember that the world isn't all that bad.  That makes you good for me.

Fact is, you're not bad for me, you've never been bad for me.  I don't think I could love a person like I love you if you were bad for me.  

coffee

I crave you like the coffee that keeps me awake,
and it is very unexplainable.
In the same way, you linger
your taste on my lips;
a bitter memory of a burning flavor.