In which I cry and ask unanswerable questions and fangirl a bit and talk about myself an awful lot.

First off, I would like to state for the Record of Awesomeness that John Green is, well, AWESOME, and has gone up on my list of favorite authors from "Oh-someday-I'd-like-to-read-him" to "OH-MY-ROWLING-WE-HAVE-A-NEW-JRRT-ON-OUR-HANDS." So, yeah.

I began this book at about 3:30 in the afternoon. Around 9:00 at night, I was done. That is (with the appropriate time taken away for dinner, lunch, tea, supper, elevenses, and second breakfast, not to mention "hey-let's-post-about-this-book-we're-reading-on-Facebook" time) approximately 4 or so hours, which is about the time in which I can re-read PoA without skimming.

At 3:30 this afternoon, I was not feeling particularly well, and I was bored, and I was not interested in writing and I was even (*gasp*) bored with listening to DH on tape and watching RotK. I needed a book. And I came home with three: "Looking for Alaska," "Paper Towns," and "An Abundance of Katherines." All by John Green. Great guy, did I mention?

I started LfA in a very witty manner, and felt very proud for about half an hour. If you were to steal my copy of this book (no! please! give it back!) and flip to page 5, and glance at the line "NEVER USE A HIGHLIGHTER IN MY BOOKS," you would find it *snicker* highlighted in yellow. *smirk*

I smiled during this book. I got to around page 30 and I was like, "I LOVE THIS BOOK!" I got to page 90 and I was like, "I STILL LOVE THIS BOOK!" I got to about page 125 and I was like, "Okay, so, what are we counting down to?" And page 139? I knew before they did. And for the whole rest of the book I kind of sobbed my eyes out.

To say that I'm not an emotional person es una mentira, a lie. I am perfectly willing (and able) to cry at the drop of a hat. I can laugh on command. It's a theatre thing. But, I still always win those "let's see who can hold a straight face the longest!" games. Also a theatre thing. Books that make me laugh are on my list of favorites. Books that make me cry are my favorites. The imaginary "cry" shelf has three books on it: Deathly Hallows, Mockingjay, Looking for Alaska. The "crying for hours straight" shelf has Only One.

LfA is one of the books I have read that has changed my perception on life and death. It is also one of two books I have actually written a blog post about (although HP and the LotR show up so often, they kind of count): this, and "I Am the Messenger."

I suggest you read it, so I'll try not to spoil. (By the way, SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE BUT ONLY BECAUSE HE TOLD HIM TO.)

The idea of the last words of famous people intruiges me. It's not a subject I've ever thoguht much about, but now I'm really curious about them. "When in doubt, go to the library!" So, FOR GONDOOORRR! Except for the fact that the library's closed.

I wrote this in my DH book, and I'll say it here, too: "If I were to underline every awesome thing in this book, every moving passage and applicable, beautiful word, the whole book'd be underlined."

One passage that I really loved is, and I quote:

"...This is the hope that I wish I could have given her. Forgetting her mother, failing her mother and her friends and herself- those are awful things, but she did not need to fold into herself and self-destruct. Those awful things are survivable, because we ARE as indestructable as we believe ourselves to be. When adults say, 'Teenagers think they are invincible' with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We never need to be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we ARE. We cannot be born, and we cannpot die. Like energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and falling. But that part of us is greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so cannot fail. So I know she forgives me, just as I forgive her. Thomas Edison's last words were: 'It's very beautiful over there.' I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful."

And now I have a question for you, whoever YOU are, whatever YOU are, if you even ARE at all:

How will you ever get out of this labyrinth of suffering?