My books, my prized possessions. Those mere words that take you on an adventure far beyond your expectations. My perfect dose away from reality. Books have a charm, the power to bewitch you and engulf you into their world, a world of fantasy.
Reality is so mundane. Books are my escape from reality. Why survive in reality when you can thrive in books. Why live one life when you can live thousands. Visit all corners of the world in a day, start a revolution the next, fall in love with a vampire before and go to Hogwarts later.
Because of books I know things, I know kindness and cruelty. I know its never too late to do the right thing, I know its our choices that decide who we truly are, I know some infinities are bigger than other infinities, I know it doesn’t matter where we come from but where we go from there. Books have a way to teach you all those life lessons without you even knowing it.
I remember buying each and every one of my books. From the first Archies to The Diary of a Wimpy Kid to Twilight to Looking For Alaska to Wuthering Heights to The Great Gatsby. The happiness I felt can’t ever be measured. Each one having their own memory, their own experience. All books have their own stories some written and some unwritten. Reading is just dreaming with open eyes. My library is my life in a room. My books, my first love.
Paperbacks took my heart and never gave it back.
Books have the power to even turn muggles into wizards. Books open the door to my world, a world of imagination.