I spent four hours in the library today reading a book called Halo by Alexandra Adornetto. The author was an eighteen-year-old teen wondering the meaning of love, and she wrote this book showing her obscurity. I wouldn't say her words were beautiful or compliment her creativity, but the story is an addictive poison. It is the same old angel type of story that everybody fancies about, but once you start reading it, you just couldn't stop. It's very similar to the situation where you find yourself couldn't help watching a Korean drama although you already knew the ending. Pathetic, but somehow entertaining for leisure. Peace!
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