been gobbling up books after books recently, not that its something new... but i ve been gobbling down in crazy speed.. books.. stacked up papers all spine together.. string into lives of different people, and a wild imagination of another person... the author. its like we've invaded another realm of thoughts..books brings me tears, cold sweat on my palms, fear, aches.. they affect me. because every book i handpicked from the store, sets my mind to read every line, devour every bit, and immerse myself into another world. Reading makes me take my mind off what im troubled with.. and i forget where i am.. my world seems to froze as i read about someone else's world.. before i know it, hour after hour passed..
everytime when im done with a book, i feel sad. i feel even worst when the ending is crazily upsetting. i still remember tearing at TCC while reading the white tiger.. slaves in India brought me tears and aches.. books makes me ponder, and of course, appreciate. they teaches you as they entertain.
love me and love my books. build bookshelves let me fill them up with colorful bookspine facing me.. im glad im able to read, and write.. we often take these for granted because its just human nature to.
take gratitude, and give thanks.
jess.
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