Run away and never come back. I’ve been wanting to do that for as long as I can remember. I always thought that as I got older that the feeling would go away but, alas, it gets worse every year. As I keep making not so great decisions about my future my thirst for a whole new life just gets stronger. That’s where reading comes in.
Reading is like a drug to me. I don’t have to think about all the bad shit going on in my life if I just read. Once I get engrossed in a book everything else falls away. I focus totally on what’s going on in the story and my mind feels like it’s resting. If the book is good enough I even forget to eat or take bathroom breaks! There’s nothing better to me than the feeling of reading a great book that keeps my attention.
But reading can make me unhappy sometimes. The thing is, I want to be those characters so bad that once I’m done reading the book all I can think is how much I hate myself. I sit there after I’m done and think to myself,
“Why couldn’t I be born beautiful or rich or in a different place?” And I imagine what it would be like to have everything I wanted or at least not have to struggle constantly for the things I need. Reality always comes back when I look around and I don’t see the setting of the last book I read. And then I feel depressed.
It’s a pretty interesting cycle, really.
I love it and hate it.
I just want a whole new life in a whole new place.