Reading

I used to love reading spending days enamoured with a book until I consumed the last pages. I could not have enough because it let me escape, to live another life, to feel, experience in some one elses life escaping my own. It has been years since I have read with such fervor and relish as I did as a child, but I long to hold that enchantment and escape. I miss the connection however abstract with the books I read. I miss it all, to widen my world even though I'm chained into my own reality. The escape I have needed I have sought in books, as before. I started reading Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, for some reason I had never read this book but heard of it so often I found it online. I finished it half an hour ago and even though it did not enrapture me as other books it gave me thought and reflection. I led me away from my own dreary life to another time, another life, to step outside of my own pitiful complaints and boredom. I finished the book in two days, reading, devouring the book with such hunger for I had been famished for mental intellect.

The greatest joys I 've had were of learning of things new and different, school brought time joy although the testing always turned me off the learning always lite a fire of curiosity and pleasure for me. It is refreshing to know that I'm still enlightened and fulfilled by my mind, I feel refreshed and curious to learn, I feel a little light has shinned into my deep dark cave leading me to the light I so desperately sought. I feel hope, and I'm not completely lost..the insanity has either completely taken over or the fog has lifted for today. Regardless I feel a bit more of my old self, I need to challenge my mind and seek out my yearning of learning new things.