I just finished watching The Time Traveller’s Wife. Omg, i love the show. I love it so much i want the book. My birthday is round the corner. Someone buy me the book !!
I’ll quote from wikipedia. “The novel, which has been classified as both science fiction and romance, examines issues of love, loss, and free will. In particular, it uses time travel to explore miscommunication and distance in relationships, while also investigating deeper existential questions.”
All bold emphasis mine. No wonder i love the story so much. Free will and existentialial questions.
The baby nephew is going home tomorrow. Dinner with the cousins also tomorrow. That means i can’t come home to see him sprint crawl towards me, boohoo.
I’ve finished The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Here’s an excerpt from the Afterword.
What was it about Mary Ann turning a tale? She was one of the wittiest people I’ve ever met, but wit wasn’t the essence of her gift. Her language was lustrous, her timing was exquisite, her delivery was a thing of beauty and a joy forever, but none of these reaches to the center of her charm. That, it seems to me, was her willingness to be delighted by people- their phrases, their frailties, and their fleeting moments of grandeur. Together with her delight was the impulse to share it
As i read it, that bit of paragraph lit my deep-thoughts lightbulb. How i wished there was a cure for everything in the form of a pill or syrup. How nice it would be for some Morpheus guy to hand to you a “Red pill or blue pill”.
Alas, the cure to world weariness lies not with pills or syrup or finding a girlfriend. The cure would be, quite simply, discarding world weariness itself; to find delight in things once more.
I recall a scenario some days back. It was an extended family gathering, and one of the younger cousins came with several packs of sparklers. One of the cousins asked if i wanted to go with them to play with the sparklers. A folly to commit. If one is ever to get anything done with the family members, one demands, not asks.
So it was, another cousin who knows how things works demanded that i go play sparklers with them. But all that’s not the heart of the matter.
Some time into playing with sparklers, i voiced my thoughts, “I can’t appreciate this.”. Oh.. how i miss the little boy who would’ve enjoyed playing with sparklers. Because i do remember a time when i was young and i wanted to play with sparklers.
Would national day’s fireworks ever change from “taxpayers’ money exploding into flashes of light” into something delightful, wonderful?
But of course, i didn’t have to voice my thoughts to say “I can’t appreciate this.”. I could’ve swirled the sparkler around and screamed “Wheeee” like i was having a blast. People would think i was having a good time. But was i really?
Oh.. how learning psychology has ruined my life.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society spoiler ahead.