Discombobulated

Can you imagine not talking for a whole day? No, three days? How about a month?

Hannah Harrington’s Speechless made me speechless. (I had to say it.) I’ve read the book in two sittings. The first one I had to stop because it was 2am and now I’ve just finished it feeling enlightened and giddy.

On the impact of words, I am much a believer of saying less. I have this ability of articulating perfect sentences in my head but it all comes out gibberish. I go through the motions of every day without talking a lot. (Some people say those who don’t talk will have bad breath. I say, hell no to that and gingivitis.) I find myself silent in conversations with a group. And I do this art of speculation thing where I banter in my head on what to say first out of many things I have to say. I think before I speak. If I don’t have anything to say I won’t say anything at all. The thing is, I listen. I just listen and I observe. But when push comes to shove and a topic I knowingly am interested in is put out, you here my endless babbles.

The book was full of clichés but in most expectations of contemporary romance, the book surpassed it all. There was warmth and depth with chuckle-inducing humor. The setting of high school made me think back to the good ol’ days. Eating lunch with my three best friends at a staircase is one of the memories I miss. I will elaborate no more because every memory I remember of all four of us together makes me sound like the sappiest sap to ever sap. College separates us, but I have noticed our bond tightens especially. Just a normal meet-up with Camille and Alexia while calling Mary who is studying in London seems mundane, in a way that we’re not extravagant when we go out. Like sitting on the floor of a bookstore, reading books and talking. What matters are the people who you’re thinking about and the people you are with. And that you’re actually happy. That’s what’s important.

“You can be surrounded by people and still be lonely. You can be the most popular person in school, envied by every girl and wanted by every boy, and still feel completely worthless. The world can be laid out at your feet and you can still not know what you want from it.”

I give it 4.5 cups of Earl Grey (assume that the half a cup is already drunk)

(Discombobulated might be my new favorite word. Am just sayin’.)

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