Q: Don't tell Heng Yi...

As much as I am tempted to rant about my relatives, I believe each and every one of you share similar sentiments, so I’ll stop. Instead of passing judgments, I guess I’ll leave you to see why I’m not always on the same page with them. We look like books, but that’s where the similarities end. Perhaps we can go to an extent saying we’re merely from the one publisher that brands us this shared blood relationship.

For starters, even books come in all shapes and sizes. Some colored, black-white, sepia, rainbow and what not; relatable because you get relatives who are fun to be around (makes you happy like that of a rainbow) and some are just judgmental (the only way that’s right is black and white), an acquired taste. Books are also either thick covered or paperback. I’m sure you have an aunt or uncle that does or say stuff that others would deem embarrassing but they continue to do so because they may simply be thick covered.

We may look alike but the stories we carry may not have the same genre across time. These stories could be PG-13, violent, scandalous, sad, and more often than not like the majority of good stories, not so much of happy things. Like the actual object, some of us are kept in libraries forever, or taken fancy by a traveler with a chance to explore the world. Heck, books end up talking about who draws your cover page and your value too.   

So dear relatives, a book is a good companion when it entertains and teaches, encourages or is thought-provoking. But if it stops being so, it becomes hard to swallow the pages.

Burning up,
Vonnie S.