My Name Is Hope

Hope is a thing with feathers, that perches in the soul.

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This Solitude
According to Livejournal, I have not posted anything for the last five weeks. Has it been that long? Perhaps I have definitely gone into seclusion. I haven't talked much in Yahoo Messenger either. I haven't met a lot of friends for more than a month, and I have not done a lot of work. In fact, I reduced them.

Was I lonely? Yes, I was, for a couple of weeks. That was the ultimate reason why I became silent. I could never think of something good in my life. I was afraid of facing people. I was so afraid of myself. Yet Someone decided to pick me up from where I came from, and the next weeks of silence were nothing but refreshing and liberating.

For a week now, I realized that I can read as much books as I can. Bookstores have suddenly become my favorite hang-out, and somehow, I never left one of them without buying one. I didn't matter if it was dirt cheap or not. The most important thing is these are books I would be so interested to read, not those picked up because they ended up in the Best-seller's List or they are going to be translated into big-screens.

Starting today, I will be reading three books every day: chapter by chapter. Who would have thought I could have this practice of patience? 

Truly, my life has been pretty quiet, yet I'm loving it. It's started to be ridden of too much responsibility, too much big dreams, too much of myself.


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