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368 pages, ebook
First published November 15, 2011
“I always wonder about raindrops.
I wonder about how they're always falling down, tripping over their own feet, breaking their legs and forgetting their parachutes as they tumble right out of the sky toward an uncertain end. It's like someone is emptying their pockets over the earth and doesn't seem to care where the contents fall, doesn't seem to care that the raindrops burst when they hit the ground, that they shatter when they fall to the floor, that people curse the days the drops dare to tap on their doors.
I am a raindrop.
My parents emptied their pockets of me and left me to evaporate on a concrete slab.”
I always wonder about raindrops.Let me translate what Mafi was trying to say; "It was raining."
I wonder about how they’re always falling down, tripping over their own feet, breaking their legs and forgetting their parachutes as they tumble right out of the sky toward an uncertain end. It’s like someone is emptying their pockets over the earth and doesn’t seem to care where the contents fall, doesn’t seem to care that the raindrops burst when they hit the ground, that they shatter when they fall to the floor, that people curse the days the drops dare to tap on their doors.
Dark blue eyes dark brown hair sharp jawline strong lean frame.
His eyes are the perfect shade of cobalt, blue like a blossoming bruise, clear and deep and decided.
I've tried so hard to get those blue blue blue eyes out of my head but I know him I know him I know him.
...blue and bottomless...
I'd recognize your eyes anywhere in the world.
He still has the most unusually blue eyes I've ever seen.
...the deep dark blue of the eyes I've learned to swim in.
His natural tan offsets a pair of eyes a shade of blue in a midnight sky.
Raindrops are my only reminder that clouds have a heartbeat.
I wonder about how [raindrops are] always falling down, forgetting their parachutes as they tumble out of the sky toward an uncertain end. It's like someone is emptying their pockets over the earth and doesn't seem to care where the contents fall, doesn't seem to care that the raindrops burst when they hit the ground, that they shatter when they fall to the floor, that people curse the days the drops dare to tap on their doors. I am a raindrop.
Someone picked up the sun and pinned it to the sky again, but every day it hangs a little lower than the day before. It's like a negligent parent who only knows one half of who you are. It never sees how its absence changes people. How different we are in the dark.
I'm wearing dead cotton on my limbs and a blush of roses on my face.
I catch the rose petals as they fall from my cheeks, as they float around my body, as they cover me in something that feels like the absence of courage.
These words are vomit. This shaky pen is my esophagus. This sheet of paper is my porcelain bowl.
1 word, 2 lips, 3 4 5 fingers form 1 first.
1 corner, 2 parents, 3 4 5 reasons to hide.
1 child, 2 eyes, 3 4 17 years of fear.
I wish I could stuff my mouth full of raindrops and fill my pockets full of snow. I wish I could trace the veins in a falling leaf and feel the wind pinch my nose.
Every muscle every movement tightens, every vertebra in my spinal column is a block of ice.
My eyes are 2 professional pickpockets, stealing everything to store away in my mind.
My words wear no parachutes as they fall out of my mouth.
My dreams are bloody and bleeding and blood is bleeding all over my mind and I can't sleep anymore.
The prospect of Adam in pain is like a cold hand clutching my esophagus.
I can shoot a hundred numbers through the chest and watch them bleed decimal points in the palm of my hand. I can rip the numbers off a clock and watch the hour hand tick tick tick its final tock just before I fall asleep. I can suffocate seconds just by holding my breath. I've been murdering minutes for hours and no one seems to mind.
I could jump up to catch a breeze and live in its windblown ways forever.
His lips are spelling secrets and my ears are spilling ink, staining my skin with his stories.
My lungs are sawing my rib cage in half, but I force them to process oxygen anyway.
I take a few bites of oxygen.
My face has been slapped by a hundred hands.
"Maybe I don't want you to."
He makes a harsh sound. "I disgust you that much?"
Okay so the first 200 pages were like the dullest,cheesiest romance bullshit,like the level of cheesiness was above normal,and you know how I feel about that.I sometimes thought to quit,but god,I am glad I didn't.You know when you loose all the hope but then one things clings and you see the light again? Omega Point was that for me.Like my thoughts about this book changed 100 percent.There are 3 things that I truly cherish in life: 1.Girls in tight outfits, 2.Dragons, 3.Superpowers and that's what I got in the last 50 pages and it is enough for me,enough to continue with the series.I don't know why but I got a vibe of fantastic 4,maybe with Wilson hugging himself twice if you know what I mean.
One thing I can't wrap my mind of,one things I can't get is the hype for Warner.He is like the worst character in the book ,he is like Joffrey from Game of Thrones for me and if you know me just a little you would know how much I truly deeply hate him and I am hoping he gets killed.But absolutely get the hype for Kenji,like that guy is a legend.I feel like we are already buddies.Such a cool humor,got me laughing out loud.In the other hand Juliette,I don't know why but I got the feeling like I remember her from somewhere.I like her like a lot,she cries much,and she literally has a million chances to kill people she wants to kill but doesn't,but god she is beautiful.I don't know some people are just beautiful,now in what they look,not in what they say,just in what they are,and she was beautiful to me that way.
I will definitely continue the series.I like the plot,and now with superpowers it is a million times better.I recommend this book to every reader out there,it has a different writing style,some call it beautiful and unique,and I can't disagree,it's just that I didn't find it beautiful.It was annyoing like hell,especially at the beginnings.I know I will get a bunch of replies for not liking Warner,but seriously people what's there to like?
// buddy read with american, british, and german (sorry for hating on your fave book xoxo)
(all the other BR people rated this 3 stars and higher, I love being the only hater <3)
I can shoot a hundred numbers through the chest and watch them bleed decmil points in the palm of my hand. I can rip the numbers off a clock and watch the hour hand suffocate seconds just by holding My breathe. I've been murdering numbers for hours and no one seems to mind
It's 8:00 in the morning and I'm wearing a dress the color of dead forests and old tin cans
"You don't have to look away," he says. He says it with a smile the size of Jupiter.
“He’s so wrong he’s so wrong he’s more wrong than an upside-down rainbow”
“He smiles with teeth so white it looks like snow falling on the chocolate valleys of his face”