I should be sleeping, seeing as how i barely got any in the last week, and a probably won’t get much next week either. but the lure of a not-slow internet connection is just too strong. not that i have anything to do online anyways.
Finished reading two books last week, where i found the time God only know..
The first one was “The Story of Srebrenica” by Isnam Taljic. It was, for the lack of a better word, great. But at the same time I don’t know what to make of it. It was refreshing but at the same time, how can someone be refreshed by what happened there? I found myself asking, what was the point of this book, where is it going? but then i realised, there doesn’t have to be a point, as in, an end point. after all, its the journey that counts, and the book is just that. a journey through the minds of two people, from two different generations, and while seemingly random in their narrations, everything sort of adds up, but at the same time it doesn’t, which is perfectly okay. Does that make sense?
Here is a much deeper insight into the book
The second book a read was “The Pact” by Jodi Picoult. It had been sitting on our shelf, unread, for a good several months, which I thought was odd given that me and my sister usually devour books immediately. But in hindsight, i guess why i didnt read it straight away is that at the time, i just read 3 of her other books, and was getting tired of her style, much like how i grew sick of the style of that guy who wrote “The Da Vinci Code” can’t remember his name. on the whole, the book is not something i can relate to, but i fragments, yes. Shan’t say much more in caase i spoil it for people who want to read it, or bore those who couldn’t care less.
Really ought to give my poor panda eyes a break now… it was a tiring day.