Greatness

I get it now. I'm actually a feminist. That I actually hate how the stereotypical male sounds like, because I hate it even more when none of those around me actually sounds close to conforming to that. And did I mention that I abhor inconsistency? Maybe that's what drew Private to me. I enjoyed how the women in Patterson's mind oozed manipulative power and brains.



While Alex Cross had been a brilliant creation of Patterson's, I loved the protagonist Jack Morgan in Private (no pun intended). He's the man-in-power every guy wants to be, has everything in life, and has everyone rich and famous at his beck and call. Yet Patterson etched a vulnerability list to Morgan as well; a problematic twin brother, a past he struggles to remember and then forget, as well as his own troubled love life. While the serial murders this time round were rather tame, it gave more time to the characters' development, something I gave Patterson the thumbs-up to; nothing spells a bad book than a whole load of smoke and a few empty characters. There's a whole good load of reasons why I devoured the book so quickly. ;)


Sundays never fail to pass so quickly; one week ago, I was crazily mugging for my Cybercrime paper and one week later, I went grocery shopping with Mum had a sumptuous dinner that went on for 3 hours with Jack's extended family.


Month 33 had not been easier than the previous months; we've had our fair share of tiffs and whatnot but, at the end of the day, I'm still back in your warm arms. Everytime we hit a brick wall, I tend to get easily intimidated by the myriad of possible conclusions. But you showed me, through and through, that there'll only be one solution, which is the one in which we'll kiss and make up and grow our relationship into a much stronger one than before. Another great month to bid farewell to, as we usher in another month of greatness.

I miss you.