Date a girl who reads.

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Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

27. 04. 2012

When you see someone who you used to spend half your time with, spending time with someone else, how does that make you feel? My theory is that, if you're worth it, nothing can make you doubtful. You will never ache knowing you've been replaced. You will never allow yourself to be feeling like you're being cut out of the picture because the other party would never make you feel so, never will you have to cogitate am I not good enough, am I too hard to handle 'cause if you really do matter, they wouldn't make you feel like shit. But of course, nothing ever goes in our favour. Even if it does, it's invariably temporary. Things go wrong. People change. Eventually, you'll fade from the minds of those around you. Even the ones who you could never find it in you to loathe, will treat you like you're motherfucking worthless, and sometimes, they'd do it so effortlessly. That's when it shows just how much you really matter, how much you actually worth and most importantly, that's when you should put a limit to how far you could let them hurt you.

Chest Clearance

I lead the kind of life where I am discolored by force. Things that happened in the past annihilated me, all the bruises and scars grew around me, eventually becoming a cage, and that's where I've been residing. I still remember, though vaguely, the person I used to be. It's hilarious how a girl who used to love watching Hannah Montana, who used to doodle stars and hearts on her notebook, and when you look at her now, you just can't help but wonder what the hell happened. When I was a little kid, I genuinely believed everything I saw. I witnessed the love my parents had for each other and how they showed it everyday in every gesture. Every day of my childhood I held on to that, to that belief that good things as such will always stay. That one belief I let grew in my heart, building strength within me, making me believe that whatever happens, I will always be fine because I had a loving family to go home to. Or so I thought.

While I have grown toward that age where I started to have a new perspective on everything,  where as I grew older, my innocence started falling, and suddenly, the world seems foreign. Then you started to learn about things. And I learned that everything that contributed to my faith when I was little, was all build by bricks of lies. People change. Things go wrong. Turned out my parents, they're not as strong as I believed them to be. Turned out, their love worn out. All my life I've watched how they loved each other, and now all I see is hate in their eyes. You don't know how it feels, watching something you treasure fall apart. When you have been fed with that kind of bullshit, it changes you. Not little but a lot. Everything I believed in turned out to be not real. How can you not be crippled by that? How can you not be damaged? When your life was build on a lie, how could you not be destroyed? Every time I saw them screaming at each other's throats, throwing hurtful words like they meant nothing to each other, they began to appear as a stranger in my eyes. They are just so different from how I remembered them to be. And every time things fell apart, I would go running to the one and only person who could always manage to cease my sadness; my grandma. She was always there when I looked back. She was my knight of shining armour. 

One of the many things I regret is that I actually believed this too, was going to stay forever. I thought she was always going to be there for me, but of course, the universe is never in my favour. Even when it does, it's invariably temporary. She left, after a while, right when I needed her the most. That was when I lost it. I've experienced loss when I lost my parents and it was almost unbearable. Now the only person I could rely on has left my side, the one person that had been helping me to get through everything has gone. To experience loss twice within a short time is unimaginably crippling. You will never understand just how much suffering that holds unless you went there.

Since that, I can no longer find me. 'Me' has long gone. I began to be terrified of changes, very terrified. Changes were beginning to look like a disease to me, it violates my comfort. Now whenever things start to change, I start to scar even more. And people wonder why I am such a tragedy. I drew barriers around me, just to feel secure. it's funny 'cause I never really experience that anymore; security. I was developing into a person who recoils at the sight of love, very cagey, awfully mortified of being hurt, everything that screams damaged, you name it, I am it.

Even though words have been said, these words are not fully enough to describe just how much exactly the pain I've felt from all this. And it never will be. And if anyone fails to understand, it's expected. 

Some may say they do understand, but truth is, they never wholly do. Some of them even swore that they would never leave me alone, hurt me, you know, all those bullshit. But in the end, it's exactly what they're doing to me, things they vowed they would never do.  I am starting to believe maybe, no one's worth lowering my guards down. Maybe, I'm better off alone. Given my nature, I would understand if anyone wouldn't stand a day with me. So I let them leave. The ones that refuse to stay are not worth chasing for. Those few ones that I could never afford to push away, are beginning to walk away, and maybe it's okay. Maybe this is all right. Maybe I am not worth it.