i value honest writers. writers who don't write just to earn money, who don't write things just because the market wants it. i like writers who can find value in the simplest, day-to-day things and transform them into something larger than life, that goes beyond boundaries to touch the heart of any and every reader. it can be about anything, everything, but in the eyes, in the mind, in the heart, in the hand of the writer, it becomes something extraordinary. not because it was seasoned and marinated, but because it was expressed with such blatant honesty that the value lay that it is untouched. and sometimes when subject/matter is untouched, its charm, its role in the world shines. and readers are attracted to what is natural, what is fulfilling in itself, what is honest, what doesn't try to be what it is not. harmony that is found in honesty.

just finished a book by Paulo Coelho, titled "Eleven Minutes". an honest book about life. the subject/matter is said to be prostitution, sex. but like other honest books, it's about life, juz explored from another point of view. i read it when i was younger and could hardly get past the first few graphic pages. and somehow, 2 days ago, before i was about to poop, i saw the book and plucked up the courage to reread it for the 3rd (or 4th) time, while doing business in the toilet. muahahaha. that's the only place i can read without anyone screaming at me to do something else besides reading, without anyone peeping over my shoulder. surprisingly, the first few pages that i couldn't get through the first few attempts seemed easier to get by this time. i dunno why, maybe i no longer saw the graphic parts as graphic, but as part of a bigger, larger story, that i well know is not obsessed about sex and prostitution. the book narrated a prostitute's life, from childhood till marriage. but a good book is not about one thing, but about many things.

so i went past Maria's life like how the author wanted the reader to, and I obsessed about her diary entries, where her wisdom flowed naturally, although she doesn't exactly know where her wisdom is coming from. sometimes thoughts just flow, and we don't know they are wise thoughts until someone tells us so. and i like how she sees life, how she expresses her understanding of love in words that i can never find but in words that i fully comprehend, in thoughts that i have thought before. and like everytime i read one of Paulo coelho's books, i find my thoughts in his books, written in ways that i can never achieve. like i said, i can never create art, i can only just appreciate it. and it was all done with complete honesty and openness that i can't help but admire the courage to be true. how many of us can be totally true to ourselves? and she was so conscious of her thoughts, her decisions, why she had made those decisions, of her abilities, her strengths, her weakness, her fears, her loneliness. and people who are conscious, who are true to themselves, and who dare to be true about themselves to others, are people who are more alive than anyone else. because they have the courage to tear down those walls and expose themselves to the sun, wind and rain, and enjoying every bit of it. and the book proved me right, u have to understand love and be whole on your own before you can fall in love and fulfill yourself in another person's love. haha. i dun pity her, but i pity myself, that i can't be able to be that honest to myself, and to others. a hermit extrovert. hahaha. irony.

*crawls back into my shell*

quotes will come later. just to prove how good the book is.