The Book Of Impossibility

At the dawn in the corner of my mind, I always find a spot that has this eternal thirst for an old undiscovered book, with dust coated it. And for some reasons I imagine it as a big blue book, more like Brian Selznick's Wonderstruck, but the cover's a lot darker, no light (or lightning bolt), with black lining and embossed with gold letters. There's more than a thousand page to flip, and every single page is as exciting as the first time you open the book, and read the Dedication Page. 

The book is thrilling, inviting your heart to dance under the dim light of the moon, and then break it with eerie screams and fire of riots. 

But there's also the chapters about finding truths, loyalty, honesty, and the most important, love. Tons of love that'll never make you bored. Loves that you've never discovered before, and will never find in another book after this. Every love of every pairs holds its own beauty, intricate details, and enough amount of fresh, but a bit cliche pick up line. Each story will bring you up and down, with conflicts that entwined with the thrilling side of the book. I think this comes from F. Scott Fitzgerald's quote: "There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice."

This is the book that nobody thought would be written before. It's the lost book of the middle century, but the story was never been read, never been written, never been told, never been thought at that time. It was the book of affection, rage, passion, pain, laughter, and the sweet of silenced lies. The book of prophecy and and all of love inequalities. The book of untold stories and extraordinary adventures, fantasies, and journeys. Something you've never expected before.

It cleans up the line between light and dark, and it clears up the limitation of fears and spirit. The book that the soul will never grow old. The book that nobody thought would exist.

You can always follow every words in the peace of the dawn. With transparent, lace-like plot twists. 

You can always smile and keep questioning even if you've read it a hundred times.

You can always drawn to the emotion of the ladies and the men, the moon and the stars, the flame and the ice.

And you will keep wondering about the Dedication Page after you read it.

"To my little angel, and to all her little angels. 

To melody of sacrifice, and all the scars it left.

To the autumn, and all the leaves that turned to red." 

It's The Book Of Impossibility.