When I get a book, I do a lot more than just reading it. I draw parallels, relate everything with myself, alter the plot, create sequels, think about it, dream of it… I sort of start living in the story.
And I’m into this habit of finding ‘hidden meanings’ in every line I read, even when they don’t exist. But JKR has always encouraged me to keep doing it, because her books are so full of it.
Jbtw, potterhead alert! ‘Cause we are gonna pottertalk.
Who says Horcruxes are only for Voldemort? I got Horcruxes too! (yay)
See, my soul is split into seven parts. Seven parts of me.
One part of me lives in imagination and fantasy. In stories, characters, plots… in books.
The second part of me lives in ink and paper. It lives in the words I write. (In this blog too, then!)
The third lives in the words, the voices, the places, the images that are etched upon my mind. It lives in my ideals and beliefs impacted by them.
The fourth part resides in the people I’ve trusted a piece of my soul with. A long list of one person, yeah.
The fifth part of me is lost somewhere in my abyss of flaws, mistakes and weaknesses.
And then, the sixth is in this human body I have been given; serving expectations, dealing with the daily shit that humans create, eating, sleeping… being ‘normal’.
So, I’m revealing my Horcruxes on a public site, inviting people thirsty for my life to come and kill me. That makes me stupid, right? But this last Horcrux of mine won’t die. It can’t be destroyed, because the seventh part of me lives in my past. (not that I’m afraid of dying. Death actually intrigues me)
That gives me an edge over the Dark Lord. B] (that is, unless somebody invents a time machine)
Anyway, I’m so sorry for this extremely lame post. This thought came to me yesterday, and, apparently I’m pretty exited about it. So yeah… but sorry 😛