THE BOOK I READ :

An acquaintance once gave me a book. The title was interesting although the cover was weird. Simply because it was given to me by someone who alledged that she has read some parts of it and was thinking that it would suit me I thought that the book could possibly reflect an aspect of the giver which was more to the spiritual side of things.

When I started to browse on the initial phrases of the text I was laughing at what I once regard as a humour of the story. I was not particularly impressed especially that I have particular distaste on anything diabolical which was on its cover. However cliches like: do not judge a book by its cover played into my thoughts. Perusing it further I realized that indeed it contained some odd ideas - however for the time that I have spent on it and the few laughs that it gave me I decided to flipped further into the pages trying to see the author rather than the book itself.

As a book I come to think that the story merely reflect the author's sad experiences. Perhaps, the author merely wrote a message that he wanted the readers to understand but does not necessarily mean he wanted it for himself. The chapters went through to the bizarre and cheap truths about sexual laxity and adverse corruption of morality, harassment, promiscuity, sexual diseases and psychological illness. Much as I felt I had too much information to finish reading the book - I felt a strong bond with the author that I wanted to read more not to find out what was being said but hoping to know the author better.

The author had a very shattered self esteem. I realized that much as the author has the potential to act smart and respectable he definitely wanted to play tough and rough. Despite several options he chose the breed of violence, laziness, arrogance, insensitivity, irresponsibility and unreliability. I have read lies, conceit beyond par,  maddening illusions and void spiritual existence.  Before I could finish the final chapter of the saga - I closed the book - looked back through the times I had diligently and dutifully tried to reach out for that piece of crap that stuck me for 22 months.

I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my own reflection. I was stunned - the image of a weary woman, the painful look in the eyes with dark patches of eyebags - in horror I asked myself - did I hear myself swearing with anger and hurt getting affected with what I read ??? Where had the spirit people see to be neat and sweet gone ?  Oh dear, I could only feel I cheated and deserted my own self - but again I asked - for what good reason do I need to come across THE BOOK ?

The night was so late I climbed to bed and covered my head with the heaviest pillow and cried silently determined that in the morning I will find better things to do.  The day was not promising and the weather forecast was horrible but I chucked my camera inside my bag donned on my black esprit and levis and headed for a flight. Coming out of the plane  the night drama was camouflaged by Oakley and in the cheerful hugs of friends built the strength to smile again.