Cecilia Dies

If you already know the ending to a situation, would you have done things differently?

Cecilia commits suicide. And a little bit of me dies. She’s only thirteen and she did it twice.

I am reading The Virgin Suicides, with the ending already made known on the first page, I suppose. And as I flip each page, the words seem to become fishing nets, trawling my psyche deep and hard. Somehow, I feel exposed.

The trepidation that comes with reading the novel, the transient happiness of the Lisbon girls out on a prom dance, gleams even more brightly when I know they’re going to die soon.

Death stares at me from between the pages, playing Hide and Seek.

I feel like I’m reading from a fluorescent lamp on its last legs. More power, more power, more…before it dies and splutters into darkness. You know, the incandescence might actually engulf me before I finish the novel.

1, 2, I’ve found you

And I am only halfway through.


Finding Deep Blue

I’m walking the proverbial plank.

Somewhat stubborn since a few people have, more or less, warned me against doing so. But walking the plank will lead me to where I want to go: the deep blue sea. If doing so will allow me to find my deep blue, I’ll gladly walk it.

Do you have a deep blue?

Illustration by Howard Pyle

Illustration by Howard Pyle