I just got back to reading and I must say my first pick is doing great in the reviews department.
Although I’ve just recently finished Of Love and Evil, I find that this can be easily recommended especially if you’re slowly getting your groove back to reading – case in point: me. Or perhaps you’re too darn busy that you can only spare a few pages – case in point: me.
I haven’t the slightest understanding as to how and why I suddenly stopped writing or why I mysteriously stopped reading. Oddly enough, I had the highest “events” for the past 25 months and subjects were never scarse. If anything, I had so much to write about. At the same time I never stopped buying books. I had my regular trips to my local bookstore and picked the one I liked with thoughts such as, “something to accompany me during the rainy days”. But I never got around to reading; I always had an excuse. These two activities or great love, if I should say so myself, are my saviors, my happiness, my therapy and most of all my friend. What constitutes this relationship concludes nothing less of fulfillment and ultimate love.
I would like to allude that this may have been brought up by a sudden turn of events however that would be unfair. Only because a blessing should not hinder such interests. If anything, it should have been bolstered by it. I should be writing and reading more. But no, instead I forgot my compass, suspended everything for tomorrow and slowly became a stranger to a page I use to adore.
I should be institutionalized. As mush as I want to tell myself it was for good reason, I can’t. I should be ashamed of myself, oh wait, I AM ashamed of myself.