me replying to messages 10 days late and blaming it on my busy schedule to hide the fact that my depression has me thinking simple correspondence is an actual workload:
god my absolute favorite feeling is devouring a book, when you get so into the pages and the words that you have to stop your eyes from skipping lines and force yourself to read every word, when you’re so impatient for what happens next that you can’t sit still while reading, when you have to re read whole pages because you were too busy predicting and anticipating that you missed the actual events, when you read a part that’s too good for words and you have to close the book and scream into your pillow, that’s what reading a truly great book is about and the feeling is even better when you haven’t found a book like that in a long time and then you stumble across one and something inside of you awakens
