I have been reading alot recently, soaking in the world that others depict.
A recurring theme in the stories that I have read is about love – the love between lovers, siblings, parent and child, pets and above all, self.
Some had happy endings, others, not quite. Some depicted love as a struggle, identity crisis, habit, understanding. Not one was identical, but nevertheless, they are beautiful and haunting in their own ways. The experiences shared through beautiful writing reminded me that, no one is truly alone in the struggle, and if you are willing to look beyond, there are others willing to accept you for who you are.
(Even though you think that you can be an unlovable monster most of the time.)
It brings hope and calm during the morning rush commute, starting each day with an inject of fresh hope, that perhaps, this world ain’t so bad and tough after all.
Hiam 