Fed Up!!!!

Gosh,  it’s really been awhile since my last post. I apologize for this. But for today, allow me the luxury of rambling😳, poorly constructed sentences and illogical statements 😳.
The last few days  have been sucky, both emotionally and mentally. 

Depression, that sneaky b*****d, has  ambushed me again. 

I am so tired of being miserable. So so tired…. of trying and trying and getting nowhere. 

Tired of being present to a world that doesn’t care.

Tired of smiling when I want to scream.

Tired of waiting for that miracle that is ever eluding.

I am… just.. so.. Tired…

I am rambling I know. I am sorry. To add insult to injury and drop me 10 meters further down the ‘despair pit’, I was informed today, by an online freelance company (with whom I was hoping to acquire some freelance work), that as a writer, I was not ‘good enough’ to work for them😳😳😳😳😳. That was mean 😳.


I wonder when the Universe will throw me a freaking bone here..

because everything…..

Truly sucks right now 😳😳😳.

Images taken off Google Images. 

For The Love Of Reading…

A few days ago, a  distant cousin of mine asked me a truly random question. 

She asked, ‘What exactly do you like about reading and books? It’s just a bunch of words on a page’.

‘JUST A BUNCH OF WORDS’ 😱😲 screamed the my inner psycho bitchπŸ‘Ή. Clearly ‘the cousin’ is doing the whole reading thing wrong if that is her opinion.

How could I explain, to this part- neanderthal relative, the joy of one’s soul as you dance between the pages of a novel.

How could I make her understand the experience of drowning yourself in the lives of the characters.

Would my words  change her view in any way? Would my love and enthusiasm somehow, suddenly enable her to hear the crunch of autumn leaves beneath a characters’ feet? Or feel that exquisite burgundy silk dress as if she were touching it herself? 

Would she be able to smell the aroma of something delicious that was served? 

That’s what I love about reading. For me,  it’s as  personal as experiencing it myself. I can hear the characters voices as if they were as real as You and I. But how would I ever be able to explain this to another??? 

Truly,  for me, a book is not merely meant to be read. It is meant to be experienced. And like the saying goes, ‘No two people ever read the same book’. 

I would love to hear others thoughts on what they love reading and books. πŸ˜„

Images taken off Google Images.