Dear Max,
I haven’t counted the many times I see a book and become curious about the story. It’s in the blurb, the cover, the fiction type, and the author. I do not choose a book in this order. Anyway, I must admit that reading books is a form of escape that takes me to a different place and make me experience the scenario. This is why I stay away from the depressing Nicholas Sparks books. The aftermath of reading lingers in my memory, as if I, first hand, experience the events/scenarios in the book; the point of view of the main character become my own.
Since reading diverts me to another world, I run away from reality. This is incomprehensible. There is no past and no future. It’s in the moment of being stuck in the written imagination of the author. Prolonging the escape can be both frustrating at the same time savoring.
I am reading this book and I haven’t finished it. Actually there are 3 books I’m reading simultaneously but none of them finished. The main reason is that these stories are so good I just don’t want it to end. It makes me torn because I also want to know how it ends. The books are still in shelve waiting to be read while I, on the other hand, am half contented on not finishing the story and finishing it.
I haven’t exactly pinpointed what my problem is. Why on earth do I just stop reading? Why I don’t like at the same time like to finish good pieces of literature.
Maybe I figured out my ideal ending. I just don’t want it to be wrong or feel aghast that a good book can have a predictable ending. Or maybe, I don’t like to end the story because part of my fantasy ends as well. I can no longer escape to that kind of world and be the main character.
Hay……
i can’t seem to decide on whether who I’m writing to is a girl or a boy. Hence, I will settle with an ambiguous name, Max.
Dear Max,
A lot of people say that once you get abandoned, it’s going to be a rough road ahead. I mean, who will you turn to? Who will save you?
“why have you forsaken me?” screams at the deaf ---pointless
When I was desolated, I was just stunned. Partly, due to this confidence that I will not be let down again; another due this belief I can always count on acting on the right thing. Catatonic with surprise, I never saw this coming.
After a few weeks, what is more surprising is the effect of being alone did to me.
1. I meet new people.
I’ve been introduced to different people by hanging out with a different set of people. Social networking has done its job by connecting me to different persons. Since, I’ve been to myself, I enjoy the new company.
2. I hang out in different places
Being exposed to different people led me to different hang outs. It’s their thing and I happily tag along where ever they go
3. SPONTENEITY
There is more room for the unpredictable and the spur of the moment gimiks. Moreover, the refreshing conversations don’t end. New people new personalities
4. I bond with my family
Since my time seems to be passing by to my will. Spending time with family seems to be a natural thing.
5. I become introspective
“what did I do? What should have I done? What can I correct? What do I need to do from now on?”
6. Getting things into perspective
FOCUS! That’s gets me in track. Whenever a crisis with the level described as “I wanna die” level, it gets me into perspective on what is “end of theworld” crisis. In other words, because of this, I know what battles to fight.
7. I become more grateful
It’s the simple things.. ‘nuff said. All the small things that I see and experience make me grateful each time.
Yeah, I’ve hit the wall. you’re right.
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