Books, Non-Damaging Morphines

11:12:00 PM

"There is no friend as loyal as a book." -Ernest Hemingway.
Hello, good people! I have came back from a major day-off. I thought about making a blog post on Sunday, but I went out with some friends and got home pretty late because we were enjoying our conversation very much. So, to make it up here I am.

See, before this holiday, I had a plan. A great plan. Some kind of a goal, in fact. I told myself that I would save me some money to buy some books for myself to fill in the holiday. I did save some money but somehow, it's a mystery I crave to solve right now, they just gradually leave my wallet for some place else. Now comes the holiday, I wonder where they've left me for. You can picture me deep-sighing the issue... Go ahead.
Anyway, so the goal has yet to be achieved. I failed saving some money and now I'm left book-less. Sad? Devastated. Like the I-just-got-my-heart-broken devastated kind of devastated. You know what I'm trying to portray here. So, yeah. I am unfortunately money-less during the holiday and book-less to add some more sorrow. I thought life was gonna be easier but it just evilly laughs at my butt now. Sigh, again.
To my luck, I downloaded this amazing app called Wattpad. You can just type that word in Google and the site will show up. It has plenty of stories. It's like virtual books, not worldly published. How can I describe this site... Hmm, one second. Oh, it's like those fan-fiction websites where random people write random fictional stories. And yeah, I downloaded the app and found myself have completely fallen in love with all its goodness (read= the stories in it). Maybe life has two sides after all.
So far, I have finished reading eight stories there. Two of them are still regularly updated by the writer and the other six are completely finished. I am currently enjoying the good-girl-loves-bad-boy vibe. So classic, right? But believe me, although the classic bad-boy smirks and the beauty-in-disguise nerds are still in every page of the book however there are various different models of stories. And those eight books, though they're in the same vibe, they have different highlights that stand out.
Here they are...
My current virtual bookshelf :)
Books. Like animals, they come in various genes. We call them genres. Some are heavier than the others; elephants are heavier than cats. Some use sophisticated diction, others use light words; pets and wild ones. Some end in the ever so famous happily-ever-after, some don't have happy endings, some have glossaries at the end.
Books are like people. They come in different covers. But they aren't cruel, they don't judge each other when they are put on the same rack in a book store. Books mind their own stories. We, people, sometimes don't. But just like us, books have inevitable flaws. Some stories are a lot more complicated than the others, some formulas are explained in various confusing ways, some are just ordinary yet rich. Just like people, books are lives and they come alive when we read them.

I can't believe that was so Shakespeare-like. Let me get some clap around here...

When I was little, my mom used to tuck me in at night reading two to three lines from some children's books. I dozed off not too long into the story. But the habit didn't last that long because I stopped liking people reading me what I should be able to read by myself. So, I began to read.
Spelling was something...something incredibly hard. I spelled things by their syllables and made fun of myself but I learned pretty quick. I was one of those kids who talk faster than I walk. That got me asthma somehow. I was so interested in some tools the handyman used to fix our house and somehow the dusty air got stuck in my lungs and I suffered from asthma quite bad. But it didn't stop me from reading that made me talk a lot. I read a lot, I talked a lot.
I just love stories, make-believes, impossibility comes to life, everything that does not make sense makes sense. See, that is so philosophical and weird but I like it. No, I love it. I moved to the States (US) when I was in 4th grade. Me, being young and clueless about that other part of the world, was in a major social anxiety. I would run to the bathroom just to cry because I didn't know anything. Not even a word they were saying. I hated them speaking. It was as if reading but my vision went into a massive blur but it was hearing. The teachers were very concerned because my parents told them back in my previous school I was nothing like this. They said it was a little shock. Heck no. It was an enormous shock. So, I began to read. Everything in English was my next victim. I read the dictionaries, the encyclopedias, the questions on our booklets, everything. And soon enough I found myself again, understanding almost every spoken word they said. Ever since, I loved words and anything to do with languages.
From that point on, I have been loving the process of reading. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with writing, too. It's always a cause-and-effect chain between reading and writing. Like chemical reactions between hydrogen and oxygen forming into this new substance called water. Reading and writing were also forming something; an escape for me. Who would turn down chances to escape from this dying world? Nobody, not even me.

Meet my little collection!

I just happen to love books so much. Fictional books are my favorite. Every time I get the chance to read one, it's as if I dissolve into the story. I always feel like I'm there in the story. Images are making scenes and settings in my head, dialogues feed the voices inside my ruthless chaotic mind, the tensions and everything else narrated in the book are real inside my little yet rich head all of a sudden. I love that feeling. The feeling of deeply concentrating on something, on reading and writing.
Since 4th grade, I have become aware of my anxiety issues. Although it does not matter that much, it still sucks. I cry every once in a while in my room, thinking about life in general. How mine sometimes sucks more than others'. How everything just collapses together and I am never ready to tidy up the mess. Anxiety sucks. But I never need morphine. I've got books. It works just as good as ecstasy without the negative addiction. It is addictive in a healthy way. And with books, my anxiety slowly calms down.

They're not lying about books being the windows to the world. Me, being your walking reference and living example, I can see the world better through the books I've read, I'm reading, and I'll probably read. When people only able to see from one point of view, I can see from five more. When people solve it in one way, I can brag and solve it in at least two different ways. It gives creativity and feeds me with more and more ideas. The more I read, the smaller the world seems, the easier it is to understand, the less dying it is in my eyes.
I solve my problems with reading and writing. Writing do most of the analysis, reading find the solutions. I read books to make books. Believe me, nothing has ever been so worth to invest my time in other than reading and writing. And again, just like morphine, they heal you and the wounds that are unseen.
I guess, these are my masterpieces.



I can't believe those words flowed like that. But in all seriousness though, just read anything. Anything. Magazines, comics, newspapers, textbooks, the dictionary, some signs on the side of the road, tweets, facebook statuses, instagram captions, my blog (this is one of my top recommendation), just anything. I prefer printed ones because one of my favorite smell is the ever so classic smell of new purchased books. Virtual books kind of don't get the sense of turning papers and highlighting good Tumblr-worthy quotes, or Pinterest-worthy for that matter. Okay, now I'm slightly off topic. But yeah, read. Love some books like you love some people. They don't judge like people do, so you're safe.

Someday, if you read enough you'll yearn for the feeling of writing something. You'll wonder what it's like to make the stories and soon enough you'll fall in love with writing just as much as you did with reading. You can never choose between them. They just take different schedules to cure you and your hectic little head. Trust me on this.

So, what book are you reading nowadays? Have you got into the middle of the book? Is the story intriguing? Are you in love with it yet? Would you read some more? Is worth wasting time on? What other books have you got? Don't be scared to share because we all do need medicines in this infected world. Some find real morphines, we who read turn into our own "morphine"; the books.

Thank you for reading! I'll post something soon so please linger on, I don't mind!

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