I love writing, but apparently I don't have any talent, or I can't find it (if it's something you can find), so my dream of becoming a writer is just that. I'm a lawyer now (yup, no kidding).

Anyway, I love books, music, movies, pizza, lemon pie and people with good sense of humor.  If you don't have any, if you make Mary Bennet look funny, interesting and witty, or if you're a fanatic that's still not acquainted with the fact that people have their own personal taste and therefore, their own opinions about books, music, movies, etc., so you can't bear that another person dislikes your favorite book, song, movie, etc., then please don't talk to me. Let's save the awkwardness :)

White Nights - Fyodor Dostoyevsky Well, at this moment, I'm supposed to be reading Clockwork Angel because I don't want to be a judgmental snob and form an opinion without even reading the book. Or this kind of book. BUT, I found White Nights, lost in my bookshelves. I think it was fate; I don't usually believe in fate, even though I don't have any proofs to disbelieve in it but also no faith to really believe in it, so I'm kind of floating in that department. However, in this particular moment, I think fate spoke to me. And oh my... Fyodor, what the hell are you doing to me? Yes, talking to a dead person, here. But this man is always talking to my soul, wherever that thing is. I can always relate to his narrators (they're all so sociable and happy with no problems whatsoever) or some of his other characters. This author described human nature like no one. No one! What a talent to explore the essence of people, from a psychological and philosophical point of view, including the social, political and religious context, of course. He's the whole package. White Nights is a short novel told by an unnamed narrator that goes for a walk everyday and knows everybody by sight; never talked to any of those people. He even imagines conversations with St. Petersburg's buildings. That's how lonely he feels. He's too shy to have any sort of human contact, so he just dreams about it. Until he meets Nastenka, a lonely young girl with a not so cheery story, and they become friends. For the first time, talking-to-buildings guy had someone to spend time with, to talk about anything. Anyway, this novel ends in such a way that shows you what a pure soul this lonely man had. A truly unselfish ending. I even forgot the fact that this man seemed too damn needy. I personally don't like a person THAT desperate for some human contact. You can be desperate, but don't show it that much... don't expose yourself that much, because most of the times, the other person doesn't deserve it. And you let it all out, you share your story and let them see your heart, for nothing. And that, might be the cheesiest thing I ever wrote, but it is true.Despite all that, I loved it. If you know what it's like to live in a heartbreaking solitude and to have this one single moment of true happiness repeating itself in your mind, night after night, then you'll love it too.Dostoyevsky has an outstanding way to describe his characters, their inner processes, feelings, thoughts, and if you can relate to any of them, or find them remotely familiar, well my friend, you're stuck with them. You won't forget those people. Ever. Lucky us!

Currently reading

American Gods
Neil Gaiman
The Brothers Karamazov
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Larissa Volokhonsky, Richard Pevear
The Decameron
G.H. McWilliam, Giovanni Boccaccio
Final del juego
Julio Cortázar
The Hunger Games
Suzanne Collins