Books

Set Me Free: The Story of How Shakespeare Saved A Life – Salvatore Striano [BOOK REVIEW]

I received an ARC copy in exchange for an honest review of this book from Text Publishing & Netgalley! The translator of the book did a wonderful job, as it didn’t feel at all like it was translated!

This is a story about an Italian prisoner that tells us how the prison system works, all the unfairness in it, and this is also a story that tells us how a person can still turn up good into a bad environment, and I was very happy that I witnessed that change from one chapter into another.

The way it was written was quite good, even though at times it felt a bit blunt and boring. Shakespeare was used in the book a lot, and sometimes he was overused and was in places where he shouldn’t have been. I believe that Shakespeare had influence over Sasa, but not as much as the theatre itself. I believe it was the theatre that made Sasa free, and not Shakespeare in particular. At the end of the day, I actually think that Sasa made himself free… Sometimes you only need a little push and nothing more.

I loved Sasa’s character, and I loved the way he sees life. I love how he sees the positive in all the negative, and besides all, he still wants to be a better person. We are all human, and we all make mistakes, and sometimes people know they made mistakes, regret them and want to become better. That is exactly what Sasa did, in an unfair environment.

I thought the prison was presented a bit unrealistic, as we all know what happens inside, and as much as Sasa wouldn’t hurt anyone if not necessary, almost 90% of the other inmates would – on regular basis. This was a little fact that annoyed me a bit. Other than that, I really enjoyed the book and can’t wait to read another book from Salvatore Striano.

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Postcards

Friendship And Weirdness – Postcard from India

I have never been to India, but India reminds me of the old values of life. It reminds me of my childhood and then I get nostalgic about home, about Macedonia.

Athira says my name reminds her of her childhood. There was one Ivana in her first grade and was her only friend back then. It makes her nostalgic.

I remember my first grade. It was a little bit boring, because I already knew how to read. After a while, I just got used to the fact that I have to repeat all the letters with the children in my class. I had many friends. And time after time I started to lose them one by one. It was no one’s fault. It just had to be that way.

Or maybe it was my fault. Because I was different. I still am.

I never wore the clothes they did. I never put make-up in the ways they did. I always wore bracelets with dream catchers and evil eyes and handmade jewellery, and they thought I was weird. But I didn’t care. I still don’t.

I was weird, but I was me. And I love the ME I was and the ME I am.

And yes, that left me with just a few friends, those true ones, that accept my weirdness and we are together cool. I found a man that is weird with me, and it feels amazing.

And what more can you expect in life? I have everything I need.

And I’m happy.

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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

Hello from Yosemite!

This is one of the most beautiful places in the US, with waterfalls, lakes, rivers and plenty of big mountains to climb.

Mountain Dogwood along the Merced River

One of the two major waterways in the Park is the Merced River, which carries rainwater and snow melt from the high Sierras and drains the southern part of the Park.

How can you not love this view! Just look at the postcard I got. It’s so incredible. It’s heaven, you’ll have to agree with me. Just imaging the wind blowing and the sounds on the river around you, some animals passing by, and the sound of trees waving. It is a paradise for the soul, and I wish I was there to really feel it.

Thank you /u/coolcatjames, for the amazing postcard from Yosemite! I love it!

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Postcards

Goals in life

Before I start talking about goals in life, what is actually life? When do we know that we live? Does every person live, or some of them just come and go, without ever living?

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We are all born and we all spend our lives here, on Earth. But some of us don’t live their lives. We all pass through the same stages of life, we are all children and we all love to play, and then we just grow up, and we have different aspirations in life, different ideas and opinions, and different goals, of which I’ll speak today.

Does it means that you’ve lived, if you actually live like others tell you? Does it count as living if you never get to do all those stuff that you thought are amazing and special? Do you actually live, if you’re not happy while you’re living?

I don’t think so.

I think a person lives at that moment when he starts achieving his goals. And we all have different goals. Lara, for example, the girl that sent me this postcard, loves bikes and she has a mountain one. But she wants to have a bike that she can actually drive in the city. I want to go and travel the world with my boyfriend, and live in a small cottage around nature and river and a lot of trees and a fireplace in my home, and read lots of books and drink tea. Many people want to have good jobs and families, and live nice, and those are great goals. Some of them want to travel. visit random places, or be popular and earn a lot of money.

And it doesn’t matter what our goals are. What matters in the end, is that we are happy with what we are doing, because then we are happy with our life. Then we truly live. We could live on this planet and do nothing, but where are the benefits of that? Where is the excitement of life and all the adventures we could have? Where is the love, and where is the happiness?

It is all gone, without our goals. 🙂