The way I read is slow, uncomfortable and distracted. I am slow because I want every word to linger and connect in my mind. I am uncomfortable because I fidget and cannot sit still when reading for long periods of time. I am distracted because I am most likely thinking of other things besides the plot of the book that pertain to my life. I can’t read without putting different limbs to sleep. I can’t read when there is an annoying bird outside my window chirping. I can’t read when I am in high emotional states. I can’t read when I am in physical pain. There are many excuses. These seem negative, but once in a while, I look past the excuses. I honestly just like reading the book’s content and story. I make judgments about liking the plot, characters and writing. I trudge through the slow, agonizing parts because I believe that it will get better. I take my time with books I like. Perhaps too long. I have stacks and stacks of unread beauties on my bookshelf, just waiting to be read. I like how some books transport me into the minds of the characters. And if the book is first-person, you better believe that I will absorb his or her attitude on life. I will walk around as if I am the character, inside their mind. Thinking their thoughts. Thinking their feelings. Unleashing their attitude and words on my world. Sometimes it can be frustrating or even dangerous. I can be a sponge like that. And that, makes reading worth it. It’s worth it to just be somebody else, even if it is for a short while. And when I feel like I should be in my own skin, I don’t read as much… I escape through another medium: television. It’s not as intellectually potent or labor intensive, but it is a quick substitute to escape from my world.
My drug of choice.
Some helpful information about reading books and why they are so good for your brain: