Life Is So Fun When You Spend Most Of Your Days Ignoring Responsibilities, Reading Books, Listening To

i'm sitting on my bed reading. it’s almost midnight. it’s summer. my window is open and the cool wind is blowing. it's cloudy but i can see the moon shining through the clouds. the crickets are very loud but very soothing. my room smells dusty and warm and no one else exists. the feeling never goes away. everything is quiet and i'm at peace.

I really cant wait to read a scene from Cassians perspective when he watches Nesta interact with or care for illyrian children. Like this should be canon at this point. I want his future to flash before his eyes, his bro-varies to tingle and that same joy feysand felt when they discovered who the bone Carver was.

In the depth of those words, i intend to write a letter to myself but it came out as a death note instead, i was in awe-destruction. These words carry heavy bricks and burning rage, where should i put it down? I wanted to write about what a fine and a good day looks like but then i remember Van Gogh's saying, 'this sadness will last forever' and so i hold the pen and start pouring blood, spilled on the pages of my dear diary. These kind of stuff happens when you cant pull the trigger. Millions of thoughts written yet none could be able to elucidate the unsaid., it always went down the grave coverted in the dead bones.

- Marium.

I love reading.

I love the way it makes me feel. The way I get lost in the pages, in the words that seem to create a new world around me, in the feeling that I stop being myself and finally I'm someone else worth living. Because books for me it's a way to feel. Yo actually feel. Deeply, without being afraid, marking my very soul to the point the are part of me in a way, the shaped and changed my existence, bringing me into new families and friends and loved ones. Because no matter the end the feeling of being loved is there.

For me reading a book is a holy experience.

When I first hold the book in my hands I want to just sit there and stare a few seconds felling the way my heart beats faster and I can't stop smiling and the anticipation is eating me alive. Just sit there and smell the pages, the way the ink smell, the contrast of the black letter on the white paper.

The I open it and it's like a whole new world. I'm no longer in my existence, but I'm living a different life, a few of them. I have loved ones and I have enemies and I fight for what I believe it's right or causing destruction in my path because I had enough, I'm both the villain and the hero, I'm the good and the bad, I'm more than I'll ever be as myself. I feel the pain, I feel the joy, I laugh at the jokes and the sarcastic comments, I die of embarrassment, I crie and I smile, and I fall in love I judge everyone around me and I can't stop until I know the end.

And then I'm back. Back at my very existence I hate, but how can you hate something when each part of it belongs to something you love so much? When I finish reading is like a subdrop. It's like the world is crashing down on me. It's like a reminder that none of it was real, but yet for me it was. The pain and the joy it was real. It make me feel.

I love reading. It never disappoints me. It keeps my soul company. In a way a human never did, because they never tried. Reading hurts me and puts me back together. It's heals a hurting soul and protects a loved one.

I really love reading. Even when no one else understands it. I do. It's mine. It's make me want to live, to explore, to love, to be.

I am not meant for this world. I belong in a thick magical forest, filled with woodland elves, fairy rings, old oaks, werewolves howling at the moon, faeries dancing under waterfalls, and unicorns hidden away- only seen by nymphs. I want to live in a cottage surrounded by falling petals. I want fauns to play their flutes from willow trees. I want to hear the sound of dragons roaring through the sky. I want to make a garden for myself, and make a welcome sign to all the woodland creatures to my cottage of love and magic. I just want to live in a fairy tale and leave this world forever.

@networkthirteen​​ and @tscreators​​ Eight Days of evermore, event June 13th: Favotite Lyrics

help

i am so much older than i thought i was. it's as if one day i decided to run too far from the sidewalk where my chalk drawings are and forgot to come back. now i wander around foreign cities because maps do not guide me home anymore. i dine in timeworn cafés and write poems on discarded grocery store receipts hoping to brush my fingertips over those stolen years, but it only drifts further away each day. tender is the spine that bears one's childhood ghosts and this misplaced sorrow thrashes beneath the very skin i can never step out of.

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Credits twitter: @ellasxl

Does anyone else while you're reading get through a really good/dramatic scene, and then you put your book down and like, act out the scene that just happened in your mirror and then sometimes you add on to it and create like this whole other plot then when you're done you pick your book back up and continue reading like nothing happened...? Just me? Okay.