Bookworms In A Song Of Ice And Fire

Bookworms in A Song of Ice and Fire

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies,” said Jojen. “The man who never reads lives only one.”

drifting

i want to tell you. i want to scream at you, shake your shoulders and explain why i am like this. i want you to understand why i feel this way but then i look up to your eyes and suddenly a rope is tied around my throat and i can’t speak. my hand begins to shake so i hide them behind my back and i drop my eyes to the ground because if i continue looking at you i might cry and i don’t want to break in front of you. i really don’t. i want to be as strong as you are, but my bones are made out of paper that are easily crumpled while yours are never bending iron. my heart races and i know you’re about to tell me something to encourage me, but i can’t hear it. i can’t tell you because it’s all in my head and i’m terrified of letting you in and finally seeing me through my eyes. i still want to be the happy girl you think i am because i don’t want to be a burden. so i swallow my breath and smile. because even though im not fine i still have you and somehow that makes it worth it. because in a world where my mind is slowly crumbling and where my thoughts are the only things keeping me up at night i wouldn’t know how to handle if you put any space between us. just the same way a boat would float away purposelessly if the rope tying it to the deck cuts lose. the boat would just drift away and i don’t want us to stop

life’s gifts

“exquisite isn’t it?” She felt him caressing her cheek in a swift movement “life i mean. it’s an incredible paradox. there is beauty in the most mundane of things.” He smiled and she felt her chest tighten “holding hands down the street. innocent laughs that leave you gasping for air. secret looks that have too much emotion.” His hand fell to his side and he took a step back, his eyes never leaving her face and he sighed. Suddenly memories filled her view. Blissful memories showing her the times she used to spend with her friends laughing at nonsense, the times she would blush and look away when she was caught looking at him although she wanted him to know and the times their shoulders would bump in the sidewalk and then somehow their fingers would found themselves in each other’s grasp. Things she never thought would ever stop being. And she remembered how much it hurt when they stopped. She realized she also loved the most mundane of stuff as well. “i believe those are the sweetest of gifts life can give you. and i aspire to realize and appreciate them before they are gone. because sometimes it’s just too late to realize you lost something you took for granted.” At last, all she saw was his shadow growing smaller as he walked away and she felt the lightest of tears falling down her cheek. Indeed life’s gifts were truly magnificent, it was as pity realization always came too late. 

Her erratic breaths made a lovely melody accompanied by the city’s noise. Her weak knees pressed against the cold pavement did their best to kept her straight. Her once beautiful dress was now a dirty mess ripped to shreds that only reminded her of her despair. Her brunette hair which used to be braided was now loosely blown by the chilled air of the night. It hurt. Betrayal hurt. Shutting her eyes closed, she stood up and started walking aimlessly. Their taunting laughter still echoed in her head. Their empty eyes still followed her. Then she was at the museum. Their museum. Where they promised they would always be together. Where secrets were shared. Where she learned what love what suppose to be like. Or so she thought. The sound of a broken glass the startled her waking her up from her painful trance. “Princesa, what are you doing here? What happened at the party?” an old man asked leaning an oval shaped mirror against a wall. “Nothing abuelo, I’m just tired”  she tried to lie, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. The wrinkle’s man face regarded her in concern, but when she turned away he sighed. “Just remember princesa, tu eres más fuerte que tus demonios.” Just when the door closed again she opened her eyes to confirm that she was alone. Suddenly she fell to the ground letting cries escaped her mouth. How could she be so naive? Lifting her face from a shield her hands had created she saw the reflection of the mirror shone in the darkness. Whimpering she dragged her body to the wall and took the mirror in her trembling hands. Upon seeing the image reflected she stayed in silence before letting a scream fueled by hatred. So under the gaze of the city that never sleeps she swore that they would never hurt her again. That they would pay. She would make them pay for what they had done. Because after all, she was stronger than her demons. 

Don’t break a writer. She’ll bleed through the ink in her pen, the words in her mind, the tears on her pillow, The bitterness of her coffee, The blankness with which She looks at the horizon. She’ll make you her Masterpiece, when All you deserve is the endless Torment you gave her.

That’s how she copes//day 10 (via vardhanaaaa)

my sun

I was angry at you for not caring enough but that anger never changed into hatred. And all I wanted to do was never to see your face again. However, you don’t hide from the sun forever as you are drawn to it by its light and your need for that light no matter how angry you were by it. And you were just that to me. The brightest star in my galaxy. And I needed you as much as I wanted to hate you.