Day 325

Well today finds me thoughtful and oddly… Sentimental, for lack of a better word.

I’ve been reading this incredible book The Fault in Our Stars by the amazingly fantastic John Green. I had been putting off reading this book because I was worried it would have Alaska-sized ripples on my life. I’m afraid to say I was right. I’m only half way through the book and I’ve already written down 22 pages of quotes.

John Green has this amazing way of creating characters. But he has a terrible habit of creating people that can’t be real and expectations that can’t be met.

Try as I might, I will never be Alaska Young. I will never be as spontaneous, fascinating, brilliant, wild, carefree, beautiful, sarcastic or interesting as she is. Because it is just impossible. There’s no way to do it. It’s not in my nature as a girl, and it’s just not healthy or even humanly possible. But still, I’ll paint my nails the color she does, use purple eye liner in hopes of making my eyes look green, read obscure books, find metaphors for life and search for a Great Perhaps and a way out of this Labyrinth, whatever it is, because of one character in one book.

And then I fond myself blushing and giggling over a fictitious boy in a novel and wishing for a guy like that in my life. I’m sorry, hot guys with crooked smiles who are into literature and deep thinking and metaphors and romantic dates just aren’t everywhere. And yet, that is the expectation. That is what I find myself wishing for as I look at th
e character of Augustus Waters. “That’s why I like you. Do you realize how rare it is to come across a hot girl who creates and adjectival version of the word pedophile? You are so busy being you that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are.” I’ve met plenty of boys in my 17 years on this planet, and I can’t say that I’ve met a single one who would utter those words and mean them. If a boy said that to me I think I would melt into a puddle of goo and just straight up die.

And that is the problem with this. I love anything by John Green because it’s beautifully written and incredibly thought provoking. No single book has called me to question my purpose for existence like Looking For Alaska. Nothing has made me question the idea of people like Paper Towns. Or think analytically about love like An Abundance of Katherines. And that’s why I love these books so much. They’re brilliant stories but they make you think, it’s not just more pulp to ingest. It’s steak to br chewed, and I like steak.

My point remains mostly about Augustus Waters. Reading about characters like him often makes me horribly depressed about my love life, or lack thereof (to quote one of my favorite bands “love life, what’s that?”) And in that longing to he liked by some perfect guy who just isn’t real I forget about the beauty of life. I forget about how blessed I am and how much I straight up adore the world.

I’m glad I ended on a good note, at first I was worried this was going to turn into one of those whatiswrongwithme?whydoesnoboylikeme?imgoingtobealoneforever kind of posts. I’m glad it didn’t 🙂

Random fact of the Day- There are 14 dead people for every live person on this planet. Dark, I’m aware, but interesting.

Mission of the Day- write some poetry to a whale shark and then recite it to someone dramatically.

Love you!



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