Of Sad Stories II

So I have been reading. In the post about book tags, one question asked which of the two kinds I preferred; sad books or happy books (I forget how exactly the question was phrased, but y’all get the idea). Of course I said I love reading books that make me cry. Books that could even make me cry so hard even if that was what I was doing all day… crying so hard, in this case, just means when tears roll down my face with not so much of an effort to  stop or hide them. My point here is I am not wailing, weeping, or even sobbing…my face is just leaking.

Mable of the sweet growing pains heard my plea and emailed different collections of over 30 books, it was extreme excitement, thanks Mable.

Growing up, I was, and still is, a happy person. In some conversations (normally with new people) I’d be smiling all through uncontrollably. To laugh is not a hard job for me; just throw in the slightest joke and I’d be laughing so hard. Real life jokes…not comedy shows or TV whatever(s). They’re funny, but it’s not too real except for the few times when I can’t really help it, hehe… I have a big laugh, and it can be really loud sometimes; I basically laugh with everything I’ve got, it’s infectious.

The only people I ever hang around, are happy people and it’s not that they don’t have problems… they do, a closet full. But it seems to me that they like to each deal with them in their own way inspite of your probing. So I thought I would go on a quest, to find out how other people dealt with sadness because the truth of the matter is that I didn’t know how, given that I had a baggage of damage on my shoulders. It was instead translating into anger over a period of time. I feel like I am telling you too much of myself already.

Anyway since I loved to read, I soon realised that between the funny and sad books, the latter seemed to dig into me more. I need you to remember they’re not entirely sad, some of them have endings that are too good to be true, and you only realise what’s going on after you discover your wet face. I find out that crying was to me some kind of anti-depressant, a stress reliever.  I often felt a lot better after I let a few tears roll out between deep breaths; although I am aware that this can be very much the opposite for a lot of other people.

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I found the realness of life, in the sense that I no longer had to brush things off because I wanted to stay cheered up. I could actually give myself a minute to tear up and acknowledge my thorns. So I fell in love with sad stories, movies too sometimes because they taught me how to cry. And when someone has pissed me the heck off, the anger seeps out all my energy I can hardly speak; at that point, I learnt that all I have to do is let some tears fall while the anger rafts along them.

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See my life. – Day 5

These last two days – inclusive today- have been crazy busy for me, swamped up in workshops and not being able to tell the difference between the tea break and lunch break. I always mistook one for the other. I haven’t had a lot of time to myself; Yesterday though, I was this close to not writing day 4’s post in time, it got in a few minutes to midnight. By around this same time. Meaning, today is worse, because I am not even half way into my blog post and it will be midnight and day 6 in no time; I am therefore typing like a maniac and hoping to make it on time.
I don’t even know where to start from and I will not edit this post, so I will just get on to telling you some stuff about myself you garra know. Not that you have to, but well…what shall I write now??

So the best thing that happened to me the other day is not chocolate, sadly, but It’s that while I fumbled with all the paperwork in my desk, I had the C.S. Lewis song off Brooke Fraser’s 2007 Albertine album swim through my ear phones and straight to my heart. Hehe. Somewhere up there I sounded like a music freak, but waah. Don’t be decieved. The truth is i listen to alot of music, both common and random but mostly because I like the Lyrics. For me, the best part of listening to a song is when you can sing along.

I love music. But i have no favorites. I generally have no favorites. Not with music, food, books, sports, hang out activities, nothing. See my life, right?
Oh but colour! I have a favorite colour, but that is not yours to know, because I can’t have people look up my birthday and then come bearing gifts of the same color. (Haha i wish!) Everything i own looks almost the same already.

Geez, i keep swerving. I was telling you about my music. I don’t keep memory of it either. Not even most of the song titles. I will do my best to remember the singer, but not the title. Never.
Same goes for the books i read. I am basically a reader, but not the typical one…(you will find out why) lock me up in a prison with good books and I will beg for a life sentence. BUT, like the music, i never remember the titles of the books i read. Not even the authors. If i am lucky enough to remember, it is one or the other; never both. And I am glad to share two of my very classic authors that i can recall; Louisa May Alcott and Jack London. I feel so proud of myself at the moment, that i could manage just two.

Now you get it. I am not a major-anything freak. I like to try different things and adventure (like everybody calls it) apart from new foods. It is very good, nice and comfortable knowing my stomach will be just fine, so I get conservative on that front. I’d rather starve than have creams, purple leaves, and other colored substances for lunch. I hear they are healthy, but across seas, they are all GMOs. The chicken too. So is that still healthy? I am not educated on that part.

PS. It’s 10minutes to midnight. Onto Previewing and publishing! Phew!

Diamondintherough.