I Can Read Forever

I can read forever. Holding the book (or my e-reader) when I had woken up until my eyes was too tired to be open. Read all day long, all throughout the week, for the whole month until the year ends. It is indeed arduous.

I can read forever and ditch all the activities that I am engaged to do. Stop stressing myself with school works and other stuffs, just me lying in my bed or sitting pretty in the couch appreciating the magic of words. No eating. No taking a bath. No assignments. No group works. Only tons of books needed to be done.

I can read forever and forget the whole world. Be oblivious that I am part of it and I needed to make myself one. Instead, be a creature in the fictitious universe where I can be the character I am reading. Laugh with its stupidity. Cry with the mire it encounters. Adapt its shitty mind because it’s making your mood upside down too. This is what I can call life, to be drowned in the flow and be carried away by their story.

I can read forever and make coffee as my staple food ­­­­­­ (or drink). Savoring it when it’s lukewarm like eating and delighting the words as I chunk it to pieces. Drinking its last drop as I process the story’s resolution. It makes my soul giddy as it jumps with joy.

I can read forever and be the main character of the story I am into. It seems like a mental disorder yet I know it was written for me. To let me feel someone understands me and I belong to that fabricated planet. I am the last book I read and I don’t care if you think I’m schizophrenic.


I can read forever.


Of course I can. And even you, too. But, we all know that this is really what LIFE is.


Reading is just the icing of the cake of the thing we called a gift. It has more to offer, and we need to face it. Reading is escapism and we are making it our reality.


We need to face it. Reading is our life but it doesn’t want to be our life. Because


…it makes us passive

…it makes us insane by using only our mind and our eyes.

…it only gives the information, the comprehension but not the learning per se.

…it makes our soul weak and wicked

…it is not sufficient for us to grow.


We have to make a living out of LIFE.

We need the outside world.

We need other people.

We need to experience real pain.

We need our body to move.

We must collect memories and experiences.



So we become HUMAN.

And learn.

And grow up.

And survive LIFE at its finest.



That’s how our reading turned into our REAL REALITY.

By having our adventure and fictitious world correlates with each other.




And we can truly read forever.

Because it is euphoria itself.

And becoming in euphoric state is LIFE.



So, reading is LIFE.




Read forever. Live LIFE.


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