I don't even know how to express this or say that I have just fallen in love with Umberto Eco. It's some late love blooming. He passed away last week. Rest in Peace, Signor Eco. It's some coincidence that I bought a book written by him yesterday and a newspaper's literary supplement had his literary genius covered in their Sunday issue. Everything just seems to be inter-connected. I have begun to have more faith and see more clearly, albeit with my glasses on, about connections of the mind and the meta physical. How else could I explain something as crazy as reading about Balzac and the little chinese seamstress the other day in a YA book and then seeing this Balzac book on a trip to a new book store in town? Sometimes I long for too many familiar details like characters from books that seem to exist in real life or my very placid self succumbing to haywire imaginary plots and situations. Perhaps, this is all a wide array of chaos meant to contain within our human...
"Some of the sweetest things in life are through greatest struggling battles"