thoughts from a bookworm

He knew what he felt. He loved her, and for once in his life there was no doubt, but he couldn’t say it. He wasn’t ready. He’d always been the strong one, always keeping things together even in the midst of tragedy, but she was more dangerous than anything he’d ever encountered. She would either fall with him or let him hit the ground. For once, someone else’s desires mattered more than his own.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #17  (329/366)
Some nights I would type “I miss you” on your chat window, but I would never really send it.
It’s not because I was strong enough to restrain myself.
It’s just that I was afraid you wouldn’t reply and my frail heart would collapse all over again.
Why should a woman have to be modest in order to be respected?
—  Unknown
I want someone who will think of me like an author describing a favorite character through the eyes of their soulmate.
—  sheispernicious.tumblr.com
Sweetie, life isn’t always like those fairytales. Sometimes the glass slipper doesn’t fit your foot even if you’re the Cinderella of your story. Sometimes it fits the foot of your friend, your sister, or maybe someone you never even knew existed. And you don’t control that. No matter how much you wish for that sweet ending, you don’t control who your Prince Charming ends up choosing. Sounds sad, I know. But don’t worry. There are plenty of Prince Charmings out there, even if he happens to be the only one you can see right now. Someday, that glass slipper will be yours and only yours to wear. Until then, let’s go shopping. The shoes may not be glass, but you can pick whichever ones you want.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #4/Something I’d probably say to my future daughter.
Love is long-suffering. 
I don’t mind if you were too.
—  J.D.
He looked at her like she was his whole universe. As if her eyes held every star known to man. She didn’t have the prettiest face, but her eyes told stories that even the gods would never dare to tell.
—  excerpt from a book I will probably never write // #4
The necklace he gave me quickly turned into a noose.
—  S.J

In my own little corner in my own little chair
I can be whatever I want to be
On the wing of my fancy I can fly anywhere
and the world will open it’s arms to me
I’m a young egyptian princess
or a milkmaid
I’m the greatest prima donna in Milan
I’m a heiress who has always had her silk made
by her own flock of silkworms in Japan
I’m a thief in Calcutta
I’m a queen in Peru
I’m a mermaid dancing upon the sea
Reading books let me be whatever I want to be….

Photo; J. Smith
My favorite corner (library) in my home

It took everything in me to slowly tear down the walls I built around my heart, just so I could really let you into my life. You knew everything. Every single detail. I finally found someone that understood. But then, like every good thing that comes into my life, you were taken away from me.
—  You can always be reminded of how unfair life really is.
And that was how they left each other; brokenhearted with an empty stomach, the same way they found each other just a year before.
‘Well, what do you know.’ She said, 'History really does repeat itself.’
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #3 (76/366)
For once, being with someone wasn’t just an effort to escape the loneliness they often shared a bed with. They were together because they truly wanted to be, so picking topics for conversation didn’t feel like walking through a minefield. Openness was encouraged, with no fear that the other person would leave when confronted with the thought of commitment, because they both desired it. They finally found what they were waiting for, a love that wasn’t just a painkiller in disguise. This was the real deal.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #16 (293/366)
I’ve always been saddened by the idea that I only get one life.
I get one path to walk down,
One childhood, one first kiss, one sweet 16.
Life can feel so limited, like there is so much the world has to offer that I’m missing out on. 
So I turned to books.
In books I can live out all the experiences I would never get to.
I can live a thousand lives in a thousand different worlds,
I can travel on great adventures through the galaxy.
I can be a valiant knight fighting for his kingdom or a princess trapped in a high castle,
I can be a nomad who spends their days traveling the world or I can settle down and grow roots.
I can be a wizard with the power of the world at their fingertips or a mermaid who dwells at the bottom of the sea.
I can be a surgeon saving lives or a world class athlete running at the olympics.
I can be old or young, rich or poor, a king or a jester.
I can be whatever, whoever I want to be.
That is the magic of books.
—  f.a.w
They break and manipulate and then say it’s you who’s insane. Well now tell me, how on God’s Green Earth did I get that way?
—  m.d.
She was 99% angel, nothing less than heavenly.
But that remaining 1% — oh boy.
And then she smiles. It actually reaches her eyes, and you wonder just how long it took her to do it, but you don’t dare ask.  You don’t ask her how many nights she spent on the bathroom floor piecing it back together. You don’t ask anything like that, because you know that if humans have anything in common, it’s that we all break somehow. You know that no one lives their whole life unscathed, and old wounds aren’t meant to be reopened. So, you just smile back.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #13 (236/366)