Today I did something that I haven’t done probably in a couple of years. I lied in bed almost the entire day and ravaged a book. I finished it in six hours.
My busyness in life now that I am actually adulting has placed a certain amount of guilt everytime I read just for the heck of it. Mind you, I am a voracious reader. I started reading 500-page novels in third grade.
Everytime I read a story, I feel a certain change in myself. Every book has something to teach and most of all it takes you to different dimensions that the human brain can create. Reading, for me, is a thirst quencher, a happy pill, an adventure that if you say yes to, you will most certainly enjoy.
So there’s no guilt. Not anymore.