theballadofuncertainties

[theballadofuncertainties]

an open letter to Jude

pic credit: jenwitte

I can’t seem to forget the pain inflicted by A Little Life, so here I am writing a letter to send to Rosen Pritchard and Klein addressed to none other than Jude St. Francis. The whole premise of the letter is really, how I would describe love to Jude. 

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How do I tell you that falling in love feels like breathing fresh after being kept in a stifling room; that feeling of relief after a period of sultriness. 

How do I tell you that the sun that streams through the cracks of the windows no longer becomes bothersome. Warm like the embrace of a loved one. 

How do I tell you that when they talked, my ears would filter out everything except their voice. A melody that takes me to a wondrous dream, no a limbo, I am afloat. 

How do I explain to you that falling in love is like waking up on a sunday morning after a dinner party on a saturday evening. You’re buzzed but you’re recharged. 

How do I tell you that you won’t be alone. Engulfed in a warm hug even when they’re not there. A sense of solace and false security at the same time. 

How do I explain to you that when you find the proper person to love, they will seep into every pore of your personality and complete, you.

How do I explain the feeling of throats strained from the fights that you’ll most likely forget. How much it hurts when our I love yous meet silence. 

How do I tell him that loving someone is like seeing the storm looming amongst the gray clouds. Certain it would be a downpour, but you’re hoping it won’t be a hurricane. 

They tell you the rush, the excitement, the passion, the fun, and the yearning. But they left out the tranquility, the calm, and the quiet. You are centered. You are in a bubble completely unvexed that it might be pierced. Might. 

For there is an unwavering belief that when they falter, you are stable for them. The joy of being together, of being understood, of being loved despite our numerous imperfections is both overpowering and reassuring.

You’re allowed, and even encouraged, to be human around them, and you urge them to do the same. Neither of us needs a perfect being for neither of us are perfect beings. We are, however, understood, accepted, loved, and encouraged to become the persons we want to be as individuals.

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“But they would both keep trying, because they trusted the other, and because the other person was the only other person who would ever be worth such hardships, such difficulties, such insecurities and exposure.” - page 531

#a little life #i need a therapist

[theballadofuncertainties]

Dear Comrade

photo credit: megbiram.com

*Disclaimer: I am not a professional book reviewer, nor am I a “booktuber”, I just happen to stumble across a beautiful pain called A Little Life

[THIS MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS]

12.16 a.m 

I had just finished reading the book. Can we even call it a book? A masterpiece. There, let’s settle with that instead. 

I have decided to refrain from calling this a “review”, I am simply unqualified for that. 

However, I think it’s only fair if I give you a backstory. The book follows four graduates who are living in New York. Willem is a devilishly handsome aspiring actor, Malcolm is an architect, JB is an artist, and Jude is a brilliant and incredibly secretive lawyer. The book’s first hundred pages follow them as they navigate adult life; attending parties, dinners, shows. 

If you are looking for a fast-paced, action-packed book, you may leave this book on your local bookstore’s shelf. I am gonna save you some trouble, it’s incredibly long, even tedious at times. Despite all that, the detailed depiction of each character’s lives, especially Jude’s almost made up for it. Now I am not saying that I liked seeing him suffer the way that he did, I am saying though it’s horrible it’s life. 

Whilst some people have trouble with the way Hanya Yanagihara had written it, I will not be delving too much into detail. I am simply not well-versed enough to be commenting on sensitive topics such as sexual abuse, toxic relationships, self-mutilation, suicide, child abuse, rape, drug addiction & violence. This is also a good time to mention that the book is not recommended to anyone who has suffered or is sensitive to these topics. 

If anyone is interested in reading and looking to borrow this book from me, I will have to turn you down right away. The last hundred pages were crippled, no thanks to my tears and snot I had accidentally pass down. 

I was warned that the last few chapters will rip my heart out and break it into jigsaw puzzle pieces. I didn’t expect I was going to cry like that. I could not breathe, my tears were clouding the words, I wasn’t even sure I could turn the pages. But alas, I made it to the end. 

The book's depiction of abuse and suffering is subversive because it provides no hope of forgiveness or rescue beyond these vulnerable times. It creates a moral environment in which such spiritual redemption is not possible. Jude and no one else ever refers to Jude's tormentors as "evil." The idea of spiritual forgiveness or even psychological recovery is clearly absent. Friendship is the only consolation accessible to any of us in this broken world.

As a young, naive, and uneducated person, I was extremely heartbroken by the constant self-depreciation Jude had for himself. I was livid, sad, and exasperated that Jude was still feeling beaten even after his job, great friends, Harold and Julia, and Asian Henry, Richard, Andy, and so many more. What I hadn’t realized is that sometimes life will not get better. I had to swallow the bitter pill. I had also developed a sense of understanding and compassion towards victims of abuse like Jude. I am ashamed to admit it had taken me this long and this particular book to see that. 

"On and on they stare, until Jude's face becomes almost meaningless as a face to him: it is a series of colors, of planes, of shapes that have been arranged in such a way to give other people pleasure, but to give its owner nothing."   --page 536.

photo credit: @bowles3c 

To call it and categorize this book as a “sad” book would be the understatement of the century. Hanya Yanagihara has done her best to stab and twist its readers with a dagger. One that is painful yet addicting. I found myself glued to the book and I almost had this sense of guilt, for when I put it down, I would be giving up on Jude. Oh, how I wish I had just put it down and stash it somewhere dark where it would not be a constant reminder of the pain and suffering it put me through. 

Would I recommend you to read this book? No. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s brilliant and tragically beautiful. However, I would not want you to feel the sadness, emptiness, hollowness, and gaping wound I have in my chest right now. As much as it pains me to say this, I don’t even think I would read it again. The story of those who live in Lispenard St. will now live forever in my memory. 

#a little life

[theballadofuncertainties]

20 Things I learned at 20

I had the privilege of turning 20 in the year 2020. I had always envisioned myself celebrating my birthday with loved ones, friends and families that is. Alas, the world decided to throw a curveball and introduce the pandemic. Though last year was a tumultuous ride, I have made some beautiful memories and learned a lot of beautiful lessons. I am excited where 2021 and my twenties will take me. Who knows, you might find a thing or two to learn from a twenty-year-old!

Life will always reward you

Don’t settle for ordinary

Be grateful. Give thanks 

Don’t depend on others for your own happiness 

It’s always okay to ask for help

Sometimes you gotta lose somebody

You can never please everyone

There will always be a silver lining 

Make amends with yourself 

Not everyone thinks the same way as you do 

You are allowed to be scared but don’t let it consume you

If you love them, tell them

It’s okay to say goodbye 

Take on as many adventures as your body, mind, and soul possibly allows you to 

You are worth more than you could ever possibly imagine 

Art comes in different forms 

Say yes to opportunities that will propel you out of your comfort zones

Be comfortable being alone  

You never know when the last time you’ll see a place or a person

You are enough, keep going

+1 Your mother’s hug automatically resolves everything

[theballadofuncertainties]

Lightning

The scorching summer heat was unbearable, it was humid and dry at the exact same time. Luckily, the sun has set in the west, leaving us with the infamous golden hour glow. It wasn’t a horrible summer per se, I did enjoy dipping my toes in Lake Tuscaloosa. This summer is different, it’s my last summer here in a long time back home as I will head up to Illinois. I have spent the whole summer plotting my itinerary. I was worried I had packed too much, I have never realized how crazy it is to pack my whole life into three suitcases. My mom was ecstatic when she found out I had been accepted to Northwestern, it’s a very prestigious school one I was very adamant about getting into. 

The weather forecast showed that it was going to rain that night. We were planning to go to that summer fair in the city but mom thought it wasn't such a good idea. There was a torrential downpour that night accompanied by violent thunderstorms. Lightning flashed here and there illuminating the dark sky. It was starting to scare our black lab, Bailey. I decided to head to my room and take Bailey up with me. From my room I can see clearly every lightning that flashed against my window screen. 

To say that I like watching thunderstorms and lightning against the comfort of my own room every so often would be an understatement. I have always enjoyed watching the clear-cut difference between the dark skies and every lightning that strikes. For some inexplicable reason, I find them extremely therapeutic. Ironically, it takes me back to the day everything fell apart. 

Maybe it was because of the fact that my dad left us during a heavy rainstorm or maybe when Josh proved to me that all of my suspicions turned out to be right all along on the same exact day.

That was not an easy day for me to say the least, I was reduced to nothing but constant tears. I was at least thankful that it wasn’t a quiet night. There was an endless supply of noises coming from the thunderstorm happening. It deafens all the screaming and sniffles. I stayed up late just to watch that flash of light tore the night line. At the very least, it took my mind off of things. 

I can never quite understand why everyone finds it terrifying. On the contrary, I find them quite delicate, like snowflakes falling down from the sky every winter. Maybe, I'm the only one who finds beauty in destruction. Maybe I’m the only one who finds the anticipation and suspense of waiting for those few seconds between the first strike and the thundering sound, enjoyable.

I curled up into a ball that night reminiscing all the memories I have made in Tuscaloosa good and bad; regrettable decisions, great decisions. Every single summer for at least 18 years I have spent there was better than the last. I have made a great group of friends and stayed in touch with them. Although it was tough to leave Tuscaloosa behind, I was ready to start a new story. Like the saying “lightning never strikes twice”, I was adamant to not make the same mistake I did back home. I was ready to leave the comfort of home and the thunderstorms of Tuscaloosa. 

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