Tuesday, February 3, 2009


I finished Paper Towns about an hour ago. I feel as though, I have read the book but not digested it. In my mind I see Margo as a intricate creature. Upon watching John Green's youtube video on the prologue of the book, I feel the need to differ upon his comprehension in reading the book out loud. I am aware of the fact that he wrote the book, but when Margo talks about the dead man's open eyes, I feel an understanding towards her curiosity. Thinking about death, I realize I am not afraid of it. To die alone, to die at all. I remember when I was at like six, I asked my friend if you could die with your eyes open. And it intrigued to find out you can. Dieing with your eyes open is so morbid, so unorthodox to dieing with them closed. We are so used to realizing... or forgetting to realize that there is a soul behind the eyes that can see and feel and witness, that its just plain spooky to register that those opened eyes cannot see me. That there is nothing behind them, through the [insert how the eye works here, failed memory of science 8] that there is not a single recognition, no nerve ending telling the brain anything. I can see Margo marvelling at this. She seems to be a different type of human. Someone who sees more that the big picture, looks at it from the museum, not the art gallery. Her values in life seem real. The book really had me thinking. I want that life, to grow up, go to college, have babies... but why do I want that? Is it because thats what the epitome of life in our society. I know want to travel have my own adventures, and miracles, but in the end I too want to follow that cycle. Settle down, be like everyone else. But I now realize that I can't drive my life around that guide line. I want to find the deeper meaning into this book more than anything, but I still cannot grasp the underlying concept. I think I have some more rereading to do....

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