Some days, I forget how to be human. That’s when I need to touch grass—literally. Not poetically. Not ironically. Just to remember I have a body. Not in a soft-lit, aesthetic way, but in the desperate sense of needing to return to something real. Something alive. My brain short-circuits. My emotions scramble. I forget how…
File this under: books that held me hostage until I finished them in one sitting. The banter?? The humour??Miss Hazelwood, respectfully, how dare you. I picked this book up with zero expectations and somehow ended up grinning like an idiot, giggling into my pillow, and kicking my feet like I was the one falling in…
There’s no concise way to respond to a book like The Book of Disquiet. It invites wandering and welcomes uncertainty—so this reflection does the same. The Book of Disquiet can feel slippery and confusing at first, especially because it doesn’t follow a traditional narrative. It’s more like a mosaic of moods, thoughts, and philosophical musings…
It’s 1:16 AM, and I’m spiraling. Not in the way that’s loud or visible. Just a slow, quiet kind of unraveling — the kind that starts with a thought and ends with a memory. The kind that makes me question everything: the people I’ve trusted, the friendships I’ve held close, the version of myself I…
Some books don’t try to be understood—they ask to be felt, quietly, like grief that never quite finds a voice. Dandelions by Yasunari Kawabata is one of those books. Sparse and unsettling, it unfolds in fragments—half-formed memories, overheard conversations, ambiguous fears. Nothing quite resolves. And yet, within that ambiguity lies a piercing clarity: a meditation…
I’ve never been a fan of the classics. At least, not until recently. Sure, I’ve picked up a Jane Austen here, a Virginia Woolf there—mostly because everyone else was reading them. But I never truly gave them a fair shot. I skimmed, read half-heartedly, and rarely paused to take in the writing or what it…
Being by myself had never been a problem. I could disappear into books, slipping from one story to the next, living in worlds that weren’t my own. It was the perfect escape—a way to keep my feelings at arm’s length, promising myself I’d deal with them later. Just like clicking “Remind me tomorrow” on a…
Thrillers with a supernatural twist are always a gamble. When done right, they create a perfect blend of psychological tension and eerie suspense. But too often, I’ve been disappointed when an author throws in a ghostly element at the last minute, as if saying, Surprise! The ghost did it!—a lazy shortcut that undermines the story’s…
Exhaustion should have knocked her out, but something in the house refused to let her sleep. Tossing and turning in bed, Riya caught a sound — a faint shuffle, then a slow, deliberate step. She held her breath, straining to listen. Was it just the house settling… or something else? The hallway lights flickered, casting…
As someone who reads thrillers almost exclusively, I’ve come to rely on romance as my perfect buffer genre. Romance books are my go-to for when I want something light, fun, and refreshing. They’re the best way to reset my reading rhythm when I feel like I’m falling into a slump. Thrillers are great, but reading…