I adore Paulo Coelho.
My friend Sussette introduced him to me. She has all his books.
Once upon a time, Coelho became a rage here. I guess everyone was reading his books although half of these people do not understand the depths of his writings. I have to admit I am an idiot myself. His writings were so lyrical, so poignant, so deep that I don't think I was able to scratch the surface of the depthness.
Sometimes, I wonder if Coelho meant his books to be simple. That his meaning were not so divine like I thought.
I became a fan of Coelho with Veronica Decides to Die. It was a worthwhile experience. It was like jumping into Veronica's skin and see things as she saw them -- see sanity or insanity as Coelho saw them. For the hours I read the book, I was insane and I loved it.
This statement may be blasphemous for people who are suffering from any form of mental illness or even depression as Veronica (in the book) was. It is not easy. It is horrible. I know because I have been a witnessed to it. I suffered it as much as my husband did.
Insanity though comes with freedom. You can go naked and run through the streets and you wouldn't care.
You are not bound by the rules that "sane" people have to live by.
In your mind, you are free.
My friend Sussette once said that she would rather become insane than commit suicide.
The truth, however, is that it is oftentimes insanity that drove people to death.
It is a battle that the "insane" has to wage.