Its so relaxing to once in awhile sit down and read a book again.

Somehow its good yet not good, when you realize that you have just wasted the entire afternoon away absorbed in a book. Its weird like that, to get lost in that reality, only to stop randomly to realize that you're doing nothing essentially. Makes you feel guilty somehow. Its an odd feeling, going almost an entire day without saying anything to anyone. When you're caught up in a book, you can talk to people, reply them, but you aren't actually saying anything. Well, you may divulge information of sorts here and there but not any essence of your personality.

You're lost, somewhere else. And I don't know whether its a good thing or not.

I remember reading books in times when I had really nothing else to do, because of debilitating circumstances. I'd feel horrible, locked up in my room, read a book, stop. Then I'd feel all horrible again. For doing absolutely nothing.

Another day gone, and your life is still the same.

'Spose its a good thing, if you're life is fine.

Well. Reading books. Thats my childhood for you.

Sigh.