Books

January TBR 2019

Hello, lovely people!

As soon as the year started, I realised I have to get on reading quickly, as most of the ARCs I have are out in February. I also have a few books sent to me by authors and publishers that I need to get to, and there’s also the library trip, where I always return two books and come back with three. I am hopeless. And this month, I will probably be busy reading and hiding in my imaginary cave.

Here is the list of books I am hoping to read in January:

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ARCs:

 

Sent by Authors:

 

Pleasure Reads:

 

Extras – I might not get to them this month:

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What are your planned books for January?

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Postcards

I am half agony, half hope.

Yes. It is true. It’s all true.

I am half agony, half hope.

I am one of those complicated people. The ones that are so twisted, that make you wonder why you still talk to them. I am one of the girls that make you regret meeting me at the first place, and then again, feeling like you’re the luckiest person on Earth because of having me in your life.

I lied, you know.I lied a lot. I lied about small stuff. And I lied about big ones. I lied, not because I didn’t care, but because I’m like that, complicated, broken, can’t be fixed. I lied to you about things you’d never even care about, but not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t help it. I didn’t just lied to you. I lied to all the people that surrounded me. I wanted to be accepted, and I had to fit, you know. And different people demand different lies. I wasn’t sure if they’d accept me for me. For who I was. Half agony…

For who I am…

I am also half hope.

After I met you, that is.

When I realized what you mean to me. I don’t lie now. Not you.Never. I couldn’t do that again. Can’t bear with your eyes full of tears and disappointment. Can’t bear with you telling me how I don’t deserve to have a child. Can’t see how sad I make you, when I know you love me for who I am. And for who I was.

I don’t even care for the others now, baby. Because you knew me. When I was half agony, and when I was half hope. And you loved me, every step of my way. Of our way. I don’t want to lie anymore. You know I don’t want that. And you know there’s hope.

There is hope for me. For you. For both of us.

Always.

(Thank you /u/ljsweenes, for the lovely card with the Jane Austin’s quote: “I am half agony, half hope.” that inspired me to write this short story.)

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Thank you /u/ljsweenes
Postcards

Fear of moving out

Annette has a fear of moving out. We all do when we’re young. It means new life, new friends, new environment. It is one of scariest things for one kid.

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Annette has a fear of moving out.

Annette is a girl from Japan. She sent me this card by  Postcrossing, with the ID of JP-799542 and she told me she’s from Kagashima, Southern Kyusha. Right now, she might, or might not have moved with her family. In the card she was really scared.

Everything is so unsure and my life currently is on hold… 🙁

Annette, let me tell you something. Moving to a new place is not the end of the world. I don’t know whether you moved or not, but moving doesn’t always means a bad thing. It’s not always about losing everything, house, neighbourhood, friends… Sometimes, you have to think on the better side. It means gaining new ones , and that means a new start in your life. It means new friendships, new smiles, and new adventure, that will bring new memories. Don’t say no to life. Don’t say no to destiny. Say yes to the opportunity for something new. Always find the positive side in everything you do.

Postcards

Always be a dreamer and never give up

Annemarie sent me this postcard of a fairy, I think, and that fairy is fixing her wing. This is one of the many reasons why I love postcrossing (NL-3358563).

There was one little girl that dreamed with her eyes open. She believed everything is possible, and therefore, she was always happy. People would stare at her and just wonder how it is possible for someone to be always happy and never to have a sad face. It was because she was a dreamer. She believed in happiness. She made happiness. She made herself wings and believed she could fly. And yes, she did fly, and people would wonder again how she did it. But she was already up above, enjoying the view while she flew.

One day, it all changed. There was this terrible storm and this strong wind, and one of her wings broke. She fell down and she couldn’t fly. It hurt her so much. Not the wing, but the fact that she couldn’t be up again, flying, among the birds, among the planes, among the clouds and the blue sky. She cried a lot, and her happiness was not here anymore.

She saw the sun the next day. And she wanted to be close to the sun so much. People expected her to be unhappy again, but no, there she was, fixing her broken wing, singing songs and smiling, laughing even. She was happy again, and she believed. She did believe she could fly again, and this time nothing could stop her, nor people, nor storms.

I saw her a while ago. She was flying and waved at me. I smiled, because I knew she was happy. I always knew she always be happy. Because she’s a dreamer. And she never gives up.

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