Game of Thrones: Season 6 Review (Spoilers)

As much as it pained me to see King's Landing burn to ashes, taking down some of my favourite characters with it, I also derived perverse satisfaction watching the Mountain do whatever he did to Septa Unella. For a show that prides itself in its gory and violent themes, Season six was taken to a whole new level with the inclusion of several crucial pieces that had been long missing from the puzzle. From this season, we were able to discern Jon Snow's ancestry, watch Arya's transition from a No one to one of the bloodthirstiest assassins in the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei's return to being the evil mastermind, a fierce battle that was almost lost if not for Sansa's last minute improvisation and Ramsay's gruesome end at the hand of his hounds (or more accurately, jaws). Walder Frey's death after nearly devouring his son's remains in Arya's special Frey pie was as revolting as it was satisfying. I've never been much of a Daenerys fan particularly because the continuous repetition of one's ranking and titles gets tiring after a while, and as most of her powers were entitled to her by birthright. However, the dragons were a treat to watch, in addition to Tyrion's never ending monologues about nothing in particular. Furthermore, a showdown between Daenerys, Jon Snow and Cersei in Westeros would certainly be an entertaining prospect for the next season, and could culminate in some nasty bloodshed typical of GoT.  Rickon's five minutes of fame couldn't have been more tragic, signifying the rarity of  Stark reunions. The storyline of Arya's return to her former self seemed a bit bungled, leaving most of us wondering why the House of Black and White apprenticeship and punishment was necessary at all. For those of you wondering how the show will eventually end; this is Game of Thrones we're talking about. Anything can and will happen. Some burning questions we all have in relation to the upcoming Season 7 are: 

What does Littlefinger have planned up his sleeve? What's with that sly look he aimed at Sansa when Jon Snow was proclaimed the King of the North? 

Who will Daenerys marry? What will Jorah's fate be? I have an inkling of a feeling that Jon Snow will be less than thrilled to be in Daenerys's company and they'll probably be at odds with each other. 

Will Bran reveal Snow's parentage? What will Bran's role be taking into account his new found ability to look into both future and past and change them. What does Targaryen blood spell for Jon Snow, besides surviving flames and having an affinity for dragons? 

The Dorne plot was disappointing this season. I never recovered from Oberyn's unforgettable skull crushing scene and Ellaria's horror. Can't wait to see what's in store for their enemies.  

What will Jaime's reaction to the death of Tommen, the destruction of his home and the coronation of Cersei be? We cannot help but ponder the final prediction of Cersei being killed off by a certain younger brother.  Will Tyrion do the honors?

Who's next on Arya's deadly little hit list? Blood pudding anyone?  

What havoc is Melisandre going to create on behalf of her elusive Lord of Light, after being exiled from the North? 

And last, but definitely not the least, how do the horrifying white walkers and their king plan to strike? 

I love George Raymond Richard Martin and his penchant for writing about bastards. I truly do. 

McCrackin

It was a typical day of confused Melburnian weather, marking the end of a long winter and severe vitamin D deficiency. I stepped through the threshold to stretch my legs and take in a breath full of clean air, only to spot a stunningly handsome man vaguely resembling a cute rodent; and yammering feverishly into his phone. Wanting to avoid a confrontation and the predictable exchange of greetings, I silently hopped back into the room, prompting a clumsy bang of the door screen behind me. As anticipated, this drew the rat's attention, forcing me to meet his rather startled gaze with one of conviction. Before I could continue on to the kitchen for a cup of mocha, I couldn't help but notice the hurt visibly plastered on his beautiful features, betraying an anxiety that stemmed from a not-too-distant troubled past. This cat and mouse game of me avoiding him each time a confrontation was inevitable, carried on tediously for months. He was undeterred by my lack of response and proceeded to wave at me with childish glee, accompanied by a loud 'hallo' that begun to thaw at my icy reserve. His surprise at being offered a neighborly treat on Christmas eve was charming in a self-effacing way. The torment within his soul was, however, evident from the soul wracking melodies he played on his guitar, that would stretch across the night to tickle the constellations that were much too bright and much too oblivious to his pain. By the time I was ready to open up to him and his persistent attempts at befriending me, he'd finally met his match in a woman physically akin to a walrus. Gone were the days when he'd try to sneak inquisitive peeks into my transient home through partially shut blinds and make discomfiting and lengthy eye contact with me.  I still wonder to this very moment how things might have played out had I just let go of my inhibitions and given him a chance. Was it never meant to work and leave me stranded with regrets? It is highly probable that years of rejection, deceit and humiliation from the opposite gender, have erected a metaphorical wall around me that even the formidable white walkers from Game of Thrones wouldn't be able or willing to scale.