Reading Kokoro by Beth Kempton felt like being softly bonked on the head by somebody. So, here’s my tiny ramble about the things I learnt, felt, and awkwardly nodded at while reading this book. My belief of a neatly wrapped up life died somewhere between a pandemic and a quarter-life crisis. I knew it, but maybe didn’t accept it. Kokoro helped me grieve that belief and move on. Life isn’t a checklist. Sometimes, things fall apart even when you’re doing all the right things. And the sooner we let go of that illusion of control, the lighter we become. At some point during my reading journey, I also realised that…
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Don’t Scroll, Please Stay [Poetry – Note]
In this world wired to keep us connected, We’ve never felt more forgotten. Explore pages, reels, and feeds, Swiping right across stories, Leaving heart reactions in red, But so much still left unsaid. Once, eye contact used to mean something, Now, we look, we scroll, But we rarely see. We exist in grids, In captions, Ending conversations with laughing emojis, Even when nothing’s really funny. We’re in each other’s network, But not in each other’s lives. Our touch now replaced by a tap, Our eyes awaiting a ping, Some part of us still hoping, That someone will stop, will stay, will look. Will see more than an aesthetic feed. Walking…
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My Search for Soft-Hug Reads: TBR for my soul.
We can also call this blog post my personal plan to emotionally cuddle myself into books because the reality has started to become a little too real these days. **grunts** Hi. It’s me, again. Local introvert, socially awkward book human, reporting from my work-desk. As someone who hasn’t read a lot of “comfort” reads yet, I wanted to build a TBR list for the soul—a little collection of books I hope will hold me gently when I need it most. If you’re looking for the same kind of warmth, maybe these will find a place on your shelf too. Lately, I’ve been craving books that don’t make me feel heavy…
