Reading

Sometimes it’s just so funny to read something and have no kind of impression about it at all. Still, you have to read it.

Like I bought a book recently, which is called “Silk” by an Italian author (sorry it did not impress me enough to print his name in my mind). Personally, I hate the book. What he said, and the story he told surely had no strength to trigger any feelings within me at all. I read, turned the page and simply forgot everything he said.

The ironical point is, tonnes of people complimented that book and that is to say it must be my dumbness to be blame for not liking it at all. Blah. Who cares?

My friends are weird. I know some of them don’t like it. So what’s the point of going with the flow and praising it with your empty heads? Just go and freaking tell everybody that you hate it. Okay?

Be frank, people!