Where you a reader? A voracious creature who devoured books like dementors devouring souls? Did you too found the book more and more interesting as the night became darker? The sweet joy of eyes burning and hands aching as the pages on the right became thinner, the crushing agony of second-hand embarrassment, and the sinking feeling as the writer mercilessly killed yet another character. There is no reader who hasn't thought of throwing the book at a wall at some point in the story or had the pages blurred by tears in their eyes. The joy of reading is a painful one and only people who have willingly submitted themselves to this torture understand this. Yet there were happy endings, fleeting moments of triumph when all seemed right, and you'd tell yourself that perhaps there are some good things left in the world. You'd go on adventures to the Shire, track the Mortal Instruments, solve crimes, analyse Dante's paintings, fall in love with Noah and Ellie, and find a place that you belonged in; the quiet corner, with a book in your hands. No matter the genre, no matter the reality, no matter the level of fiction, books felt like home, like a friend that would make you cry, laugh, smile, but most of all make you belong. So, this is your sign to pick up that book again, whenever you have the time, to say hello to the words, to that world, and escape this reality which can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. -Sincerely, From one bookworm to the other. https://www.instagram.com/p/CV8AF26vz9V/?utm_medium=tumblr
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