Young Flavour of reading
I read a book for the first time in a while today. Like a printed book all words and shit. It was SOOOO ABleist, but it was so enthralling, just like how the words painted images in my mind, no matter the content. I walked away from the book with full on illustrations i KNOW don't exist! And while I was reading I could hear the faintest whispers of the characters voices. Oh, it was amazing, to be so glued to a book. I have lost my tact though, eating and reading a book that wants to shut itself from the crispness of its own binding is hard. I remember I used to be able to read and walk freely as a little kid, scanning my perifrials as i went XD. makes me, urges me to create yknow, i want to make something so much more,,, something else than what i have seen before.
It amuses me too, as the author weaves a story in which the weapon of the 'invader' is a beautiful snow globe in every home. Just how books carries the casualness of oppression, dolled up even, dot so many people's homes, or consiouses even. It's so strange how artists and authors can see such, but don't push the glimpse to a fuller picture. Interesting anyway, I want to do something with it. I'm not even sure if I should keep the specific book; for all that it entails rather than what i see when i remember it. I think i'll just read some more books instead. Cuz like ugh. pretty picture, but this is colonial to its core!!!
