What kind of red blooded, water based, air breathing human being DOESN'T love books?
I mean, I don't understand how it's possible.
I really, truly, sincerely don't.
I really, truly, sincerely don't.
It seems every time I come here to try to post lately, I end up having a panic attack.
I don't understand this.
I'm typing through it this time, but my body is still numb, my heart is pounding unbelievably hard & fast in my chest, my eyes cannot focus, my mouth is watering, my stomach is churning, my thoughts are racing, my breathing has nearly stopped.
These things are brutal.
They ALWAYS happen based on a single fraction of a thought.
Something small that sparks a tiny feeling of deja vü, & then I prepare myself for what I know is coming.
I can't stop it, even though I know it's coming before it hits.
It's amazing what the brain can do to our bodies.
I don't understand this.
I'm typing through it this time, but my body is still numb, my heart is pounding unbelievably hard & fast in my chest, my eyes cannot focus, my mouth is watering, my stomach is churning, my thoughts are racing, my breathing has nearly stopped.
These things are brutal.
They ALWAYS happen based on a single fraction of a thought.
Something small that sparks a tiny feeling of deja vü, & then I prepare myself for what I know is coming.
I can't stop it, even though I know it's coming before it hits.
It's amazing what the brain can do to our bodies.
ANYWAY, back to the original topic.
Novels.
Novels.
I don't know about anyone else, but when I'm reading a book, I get COMPLETELY consumed by it.
I feel like I am living in the story, like I AM the character in question.
It's almost as if my mind leaves the real world behind, fades away. & this story world.... becomes real.
I feel like I am living in the story, like I AM the character in question.
It's almost as if my mind leaves the real world behind, fades away. & this story world.... becomes real.
I love living in story world.
But at the same time, coming back to the real one is...... strange.
I appreciate everything I have, without a doubt.
But at the same time, book world is dreamy, idealistic, fulfilling.
It's existing in a constant state of reverie.
But at the same time, coming back to the real one is...... strange.
I appreciate everything I have, without a doubt.
But at the same time, book world is dreamy, idealistic, fulfilling.
It's existing in a constant state of reverie.
That reverie is essentially our real world's chimera.
It's unfathomably impossible.
We will never live in a world that can compare to the world in the fictitious stories we devour.
It's unfathomably impossible.
We will never live in a world that can compare to the world in the fictitious stories we devour.
So as much as we love escaping the tangible world to sojourn in the universe of novels, it can be destructive.
The more we fantasize about the illusory, the more of a disadvantage we create for ourselves in the palpable reality of life.
This life, this world, it will never compare to the things we dream up.
The people in our lives, they will never measure up to the fabricated characters we find on the pages of our books.
Never.
& we cannot expect them to.
It's illogical, unreasonable.
The more we fantasize about the illusory, the more of a disadvantage we create for ourselves in the palpable reality of life.
This life, this world, it will never compare to the things we dream up.
The people in our lives, they will never measure up to the fabricated characters we find on the pages of our books.
Never.
& we cannot expect them to.
It's illogical, unreasonable.
Though what is the alternative?
Refrain from reading?
Take in solely non-fiction works of literature?
Give up our little slice of heaven?
Nope.
Not me.
I adamantly refuse.
In my mind, it's all about resolving a happy medium.
I absolutely think it's feasible.
Refrain from reading?
Take in solely non-fiction works of literature?
Give up our little slice of heaven?
Nope.
Not me.
I adamantly refuse.
In my mind, it's all about resolving a happy medium.
I absolutely think it's feasible.
I have loved to read since I was a small child.
I began reading at 4 years old, & I have not stopped since.
However, I have observed an increase in the frequency of my reading that is directly related to the state of my actual life.
When I'm stressed out, filled with anxiety, unhappy, discontent, worried, any sort of negativity.... I escape to book world.
It's almost a coping mechanism.
I began reading at 4 years old, & I have not stopped since.
However, I have observed an increase in the frequency of my reading that is directly related to the state of my actual life.
When I'm stressed out, filled with anxiety, unhappy, discontent, worried, any sort of negativity.... I escape to book world.
It's almost a coping mechanism.
When my physical & emotional state improves, my reading becomes less urgent, less vital, less crucial, less imperative, & more arbitrary.
I will always enjoy a good novel.
Though only sometimes do I absolutely NEED one.
I will always enjoy a good novel.
Though only sometimes do I absolutely NEED one.
I've made peace with the role books play in my life.
I've made peace with my thoughts, feelings, emotions, etc.
The most fitting word I can find to sum it up?
BITTERSWEET.
I've made peace with my thoughts, feelings, emotions, etc.
The most fitting word I can find to sum it up?
BITTERSWEET.