New Horizons

I read the synopsis for “Everything I Never Told You” by Celeste Ng during one of my Goodreads scans; I had been looking for something resembling a certain favorite book of mine, “The Wednesday Wars” by Gary D. Schmidt that I’d read as a child, all warm and cozy in my bed. Years later, I re-read the book to comfort me and remind me of nicer times. I wanted that feeling again, but this time, with a whole assortment of higher-reading level books to go to in times of need. True to its name, “Everything I Never Told You” is riddled with things left unsaid, thoughts buried deep in one’s head, emotions hidden neatly under masks of calm, of happiness, of normalcy.  It’s an exhausting read and I mean it in the nicest way possible. Turning each page is like pushing yourself further down a deep well filled with honey; the saccharine taste of despair suffocates you as the brilliance of Ng’s work effortlessly tugs you along through the viscous despondence into the lives of the f

There are so many things I want to write, so many unwritten, unsaid thoughts that swim haphazardly in my mind. One would hope the ritual of putting pen to paper, the mesmerizing effect of seeing wet ink glisten momentarily on a cream-write sheet and sink into it, bonding with the fibers that exist solely to capture the sighs of minds around the world as they are relieved of the burden of thoughts strung together by one idea, one experience-- one would hope that that legacy would invoke some sense of talent or creativity and stitch some words together, embroider that fabric with musical, poetic phrases and thoughts dug up from the mercurial sheen that exists, glowing seductively, at the back of one’s mind. One could say, one hopes too much. I wonder if I shall ever write anything great -- a novel or a verse of poetry. To read something well-thought-out, something well described, something expressed so entirely in essence that it leaves one wanting more, craving that inference into deepe