Well, hi, yeah, whatever.
I'm not writing to redeem myself over not writing for so long, nor for the pleasure of someone else. I'm writing this one for myself.
So, the end of "The fault in our stars" found me utterly sad; depressed one might say. The good kind of depressed, like the first time I saw the final episode of "Friends" depressed, like the ending of "Forrest Gump" and "One flew over the cuckoo's nest" depressed, the kind of depressed that is great but also sucks. The kind of depressed you feel after finishing a fantastic book, an incredible movie, or an amazing series, or in general things you are greatful you experienced, things that leave you wondering, things that will be engraved in your brain until old age, amnesia or Alzheimer's kick in. That kind of depressed.
If I ever meet John Green I will probably tell him how much I hate him and how much I love him, I will hug him and flip him off at the same time. I know that I sound like a teenage girl saying this but frankly, I don't give a damn because I've been reading the last few pages of the book over and over again for the last hour or so. So yeah.
This is so stupid. How come I get invested in non-existant characters? Works of someone else's imagination? Letters put together in sentences to create Hazel and Augustus's heart-breaking, tear-jerking love story (yes, I did) which managed to also make me laugh quite a lot. The last time I remember getting this kind of depressed I was probably 11 years old and I was reading a book about a cat. A CAT. And I don't think I will be as depressed again soon after now, until I reread "The fault in our stars".
I don't know why the story hit me so hard. I can't relate. I don't have cancer. I don't have friends who have cancer. I know that the book is not solely revolved around cancer, but it really makes me wonder. How do these people feel? I mean, I have lost some very important and close people to me but I don't think I ever felt like Hazel felt in the book. Is it because of the cancer? Does it unlock people's feelings towards you? Does it come with a superpower that makes people around you realize who you trully are? And what about all the other, not-so-cancerous people that die so young, with people never finding out who they trully are. For a long time know I've been thinking that my biggest fear is the fear of drowning. Well, "fear of drowning" has just been dethroned from the top spot in my list. My newest biggest fear is "the fear of dying before people find out who you trully are".
I'm not saying I'd like to have cancer. Of course not. The fear though, it's there. The thing is, people settle too often to what they think about you and don't take the time to further look into you. Don't get me wrong, I do that too. That's why I'm writing this blog, in hope that someone will read this without me having to say it. Cause I'm afraid. I'm afraid that in the end people will be driven away because not everyone wants to be discovered. And it's a vicious circle, that. Our fear overcomes our thoughts, merges with them and plants itself into our consciousness.
I hope that one day I will be able to discover and be discovered. I hope that deep down everyone has these over-the-top questions and sudden existential crises and that the world I live in, the world I feel with all my senses is not formed by superficial creatures seeking to exist, but rather huge complexes of molecules trying to figure themselves out.
I'm not writing to redeem myself over not writing for so long, nor for the pleasure of someone else. I'm writing this one for myself.
So, the end of "The fault in our stars" found me utterly sad; depressed one might say. The good kind of depressed, like the first time I saw the final episode of "Friends" depressed, like the ending of "Forrest Gump" and "One flew over the cuckoo's nest" depressed, the kind of depressed that is great but also sucks. The kind of depressed you feel after finishing a fantastic book, an incredible movie, or an amazing series, or in general things you are greatful you experienced, things that leave you wondering, things that will be engraved in your brain until old age, amnesia or Alzheimer's kick in. That kind of depressed.
If I ever meet John Green I will probably tell him how much I hate him and how much I love him, I will hug him and flip him off at the same time. I know that I sound like a teenage girl saying this but frankly, I don't give a damn because I've been reading the last few pages of the book over and over again for the last hour or so. So yeah.
This is so stupid. How come I get invested in non-existant characters? Works of someone else's imagination? Letters put together in sentences to create Hazel and Augustus's heart-breaking, tear-jerking love story (yes, I did) which managed to also make me laugh quite a lot. The last time I remember getting this kind of depressed I was probably 11 years old and I was reading a book about a cat. A CAT. And I don't think I will be as depressed again soon after now, until I reread "The fault in our stars".
I don't know why the story hit me so hard. I can't relate. I don't have cancer. I don't have friends who have cancer. I know that the book is not solely revolved around cancer, but it really makes me wonder. How do these people feel? I mean, I have lost some very important and close people to me but I don't think I ever felt like Hazel felt in the book. Is it because of the cancer? Does it unlock people's feelings towards you? Does it come with a superpower that makes people around you realize who you trully are? And what about all the other, not-so-cancerous people that die so young, with people never finding out who they trully are. For a long time know I've been thinking that my biggest fear is the fear of drowning. Well, "fear of drowning" has just been dethroned from the top spot in my list. My newest biggest fear is "the fear of dying before people find out who you trully are".
I'm not saying I'd like to have cancer. Of course not. The fear though, it's there. The thing is, people settle too often to what they think about you and don't take the time to further look into you. Don't get me wrong, I do that too. That's why I'm writing this blog, in hope that someone will read this without me having to say it. Cause I'm afraid. I'm afraid that in the end people will be driven away because not everyone wants to be discovered. And it's a vicious circle, that. Our fear overcomes our thoughts, merges with them and plants itself into our consciousness.
I hope that one day I will be able to discover and be discovered. I hope that deep down everyone has these over-the-top questions and sudden existential crises and that the world I live in, the world I feel with all my senses is not formed by superficial creatures seeking to exist, but rather huge complexes of molecules trying to figure themselves out.
