Ela Lee

“He wasn't a bad person. But men like him - in positions of power who watched the wheels of suppression turn from a distance, standing by and doing nothing - were the protectors of the broken system. They're the fuel that made the fire burn.”
― Ela Lee, Jaded

“I'd tell her that recovery would be like the temple: built between an enormous boulder and a cliff's edge. The construction would be perilous, with the laying of every stone risking a drop into the abyss. Her trauma would be the boulder, an unforgiving hard ball within her. It can never be removed. It would never yield, erode, soften. It would take time, and respect for the delicate ecosystem, but she would slowly build something intricate around this boulder. The architecture she assembled encased the boulder, protected it from rolling over the cliff's edge. Every time she needed more building materials, she would have to descend the mountain and carry each brick up. It would break her back, turn her hands and feet hard with callouses, crush her spirit. But when the final tile slotted into place, the painstaking years on the brutal mountainside would be worthwhile in the way the far-reaching views of the landscape from the temple made her catch her breath. She would finally take in the sky and the sea, the colourful boats docked at the harbour below, the verdant rice paddies, and the tiny villages dotted in between the valleys. The boulder and the cliff won't be all she sees any more.”
― Ela Lee, Jaded