I know

It's breath-taking how wonderful knowing is.

There's just such beauty and a feeling of wholeness, of completion it brings. Knowing brings with it, sometimes, a part that should be in you that you never knew existed or something you never knew you needed. I just wanted to find this meaning. The reason for something horribly, horridly, hideously beautiful which would completely make it such a glorious, crystal-clear, piercing, pure ray of light.

You see, Jodi Picoult's books (well, mostly those that I've read, which is just around 3? And from the very first page, they've pulled me in. She writes with such elegance. It's just beautiful.) have such strength that it just hooks you and make you realize that there is something beautiful in the simplest things. She writes with such beauty--I'm sorry if I'm saying that word too much. But, truly, it's the only word fit to describe her writing. She took art to the next level.--and brings relevance to the simplest of things. She makes you feel. Her characters are so real. (That rhymed. LOL...This ain't no poem.) She writes about the daily things we do and makes them new. (I can her CLE classes now. Jesus makes all things new.)She pulls you out of being a jaded being.

But, I am digressing.

Back to her characters, they're just so real. So when something so atrocious happens to them, it's hard not to cringe. And well, most of her characters deal with sadness, pain, sorrow, loss, and disagreement. That's the great paradox I experience in her writing. I'm so hooked to it, literally pulled into each character's story, yet at the same time, I'm so affected with all the pain they undergo that it depresses me too. And sometimes, her stories don't end fairytalesque. People get hurt, suffer, and die in her stories. That's why I wanted to find the reason behind all the suffering.

I asked, "What is J.P. trying to convey through her stories?". Or maybe more appropriately, "What is her story trying to get across?"

And for once, my epiphany occurred just now, while I'm not held up by anything, without any other distraction, within reach of my PC.

And you know what my brain told me?

Well, see. I was caressing my new Jodi Picoult book--it's hardbound(Yes, I just have to brag about that. It's not often I get a hardbound copy of a book I've been looking for for some time for 200 bucks. AND, that's in peso. And supposedly, it's one of her greatest works. A reliable friend of mine told me so.)--when I realized it. I knew the reason.


The HARDBOUND book I was caressing.
Jodi Picoult--or her stories--is(are) conveying us the beauty of each story happening since time immemorial, happening as we speak, and that is on the verge of becoming one. They teach us that each person has a story to tell. And each story is just as important as the other.

She delivers us the beauty of each story, and the purest form of the art of writing.

Wordless = Wordful

You know(whoever you may be), I always have such a good idea of what to write in my bloggie. But those little epiphanies always happen when I'm not writing at my blog. I just think of them almost randomly. Like, "Oh, hey! This is a nice idea to write about LATER." So I never really got to write about all those nice ideas. When I'm not in front of the computer typing all these things, the ideas just zoom and zap and zip inside my head. But once I'm already here, sitting down at this red computer seat, typing away on the keyboard, all the zooming, zapping and zipping just stop. Irritating.

Hmmm...see, I wanted to write about such interesting things. They're so brilliant ideas they make my eyes water just thinking about it. (Right.) But oftentimes, I just forget about them, or I remember but I'm too lazy to write, OR I remember but the idea doesn't seem as brilliantly tear-inducing as before.

I had a pretty neat little idea just recently too. It's that I should post more pictures in my blog, to make it more easy on the eyes(Since I've noticed people tend to shy away from epic, word-filled entries.) and to make it more interesting. HAH. But the ginomorousy problemy is that I don't even take pictures as much as other picture/word-posting bloggers out there. And I find it too hassling, time-consuming and tedious. Or maybe, I'm just lazy. See, our computer is kind of a hybrid of one from the middle ages and one from today's age. It's ok, but it's damn slooooow in uploading and loading things. Our internet connection really sucks. Anyhow, another factor to be taken into consideration is that i don't really carry my cam everywhere and that I don't only write about VISIBLE, camera-captur-able things. I write about abstract ideas and the like.

Hahaha, for someone who didn't really even know what to write about, this entry is turning out to be long, eh? And I don't even think I'm half done.

I've said it before(I think.)and I'll say it again, it's so hard to write about what you feel/think/whatever because your mind doesn't stop thinking so ideas just keep on coalescing, changing, and transforming. It's difficult to even try to begin.

But, let's see. Hmmm...

Today, I will really write about...UGH. Whatever, I wanted to write such fantabulistic ideas but I'm finding myself too lazy to write about them now(again.) Hahaha...So i'll just REALLY write about what I feel/think right now. Excuse them if they're so random, they make your head jump and do some crazy, wiggly dance inside your cranium.

First of all, this guy is soooo good-looking...yummm. HAHAHHA...don't worry, even I'm disgusted at myself.

Next, I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY TO THE INFINITY want to watch Avatar: The legend of Aang. UGH. It's killing me, mahn.

AND, I also want to watch tearfully huge quantities of chick-flicks. And I want to watch Eli Stone. Mahn, where are the good TV shows when I actually have the time to watch them?

Life sure knows how to stink well.

What else do I want to do? I want to learn some self-defense martial arts. Useful for potential rapists/robbers/murderers. I want to go to an art school, dance school, and learn conversational Chinese. I want to read Nolimetangere and El Filibusterismo, but the Filipino is so deep to the deepest trench in wherever(Marianas Trench? I forgot where and what's the name of the deepest trench is. Grade school has been sooo long ago. Yea, right.) my brain only registers only about a fourth of each paragraph.

ARUGHHHHHH....

Well, those are the current innards of my cerebellum. Hope they entertained. LOL.

Love, Kristina :P

PS. AND I REALLY want to go to SOMEPLACE for a good summer VACATION. Dude, I don't think my family even has anything planned. It sucks. Yes, it does. (And you know what? Of course you don't. But anyhow, all the time I'm complaining and saying "This sucks, this is so damn middle-aged, etc.etc.etc." my mind s going spiritual and telling me that "Thou shalt not complain; self-pity is not a good habit.". Well, you can't deny it, can you? EVERYONE does have weird brain waves ALL THE TIME. Or at lest, I think so.)

Goodbye now, really, for real.
:D