Books are my drugs of choice. The way the world disappears when I read, the fact that I no longer live in my life. I inhale books, having to figure out what comes next because without the air they give I drown. The stories live in me because I need those characters to teach me how to make my way in world. And I can't get enough because somewhere I think that maybe one more story will heal and so the cycle continue.
I reach for a shaft of light only to close around nothing. Still lost, the wind whispers constantly, you won't be found. Alone in this endless world, left to fate.