reality
Have you ever read a book and become so involved that it seems more like reality, than reality?
I have. These are, of course, my favorite books but I often wonder how the real world can be all there is after I wake up from those places. I so don’t want to be here, there is nothing I want here, that it can’t possibly be real.
It’s like this life is so empty that it can’t possibly be real.
But it is, unfortunately.
And to escape it I read my books and listen to my music and talk with my friends – but I’m still here. Because I literally can not afford to change these circumstances into something that I might even remotely look forward to waking up too in the morning. There is no place to go and I’m not moving.
So what does that mean?
Just like everything else – absolutely nothing.
