I forgot

How much I loved to read.
This is something that has been lost in the course of my life over the last 5 years.
I read often, and all through highschool.
Right up until the end, and then I stopped.
My friend got me a very good book for my birthday, but it took me weeks to read it.
My mind was always swimming with thought and I just simply couldnt focus.
I am also one of those people who, a book has to speak to me.
The title has to jump out at me, I know this sounds so weird.
Its not the cover, there could be the most attractive person on the cover.
But a boring title.
No thanks..
Again I'm not sure why.. its weird.

I read trashy magazines.. all the time.
I fill my mind with senseless drivle..
But it doesn't fill me. Never. But it does the job I guess.

Yesterday during lunch I was walking past a book store that I'd walked past 50 times and I was drawn in. I strolled up and down the fiction section, picking up all the titles that appealed to me.
Then in an instant I settled.
"The secret life of bee's"

It is a beautiful book, one that I am more than half way through after only a few short hours.
But due to the fact that I woke up at 5:30AM, I am now paying for my choice to not go back to sleep for another hour. In actual fact I have written these last few sentances with my eyes closed.
There awake again, and so am I.
It feels good to be alive right now.

So I will close the window, turn off the light.
Crawl under my covers and possibly dream of the secret life of bee's