a new moon

Sigh... I love reading. Everybody knows that. Sometimes I get caught up in my tense, little bubble, detached from reality. Is it so bad then? My exams are behind me, all I ask for is a little alone time, with a book for company. It's true, that when I am really into a story, everything else ceased to really matter, or exist really. But if books hold a temporary escape from reality, how bad can they be?

Yesterday my mom chatised me about reading too much. Yes, I shouldn't have asked Andy to stay back because I had my librarian duties. But I well couldn't ask you to give me a ride home, knowing that if you were caught leaving the office again you might be fired - because of me. Plus, I know I can't take a cab alone, I have no guts to anyway. Andy has exams. And yes, I did feel a twinge of guilt. I am not without emotion. I must be a terrible sister.

But I am only human, selfish as I may be. I wanted to saviour my reading time, they have become so limited. And so I dived into my books, trivial and fiction as they may be, they were comforting - to me. I feel guilty, leaving them on the top buck of the maid's bed to collect dust. Hmm, I might have to clean them sometime.

Books are your truest friends. They'll never leave you, never complain, never compare. They feed you and ask for nothing in return.

So why can't I be left alone with my books. I don't ask for much, I just want to be left alone when I was reading, I couldn't be bothered if I was ignored totally. Occasionally I might ask to hang out with friends, but where's the wrong in that? I can count the number of times I actually go out in a year with my fingers.

Mom, I don't like it when you used my blog material against me. I just don't like it. Blogging is my solace. What I can't say in words, or tell people, I put it in writing. It isn't the same as having a diary. Here, I get responses from my peers, and yes, their opinions matter; but yours is the most important. I can't take it when you talk to me like that, like I was crazy. 'Read funny things, later dream also of funny things.' Are you saying that I shouldn't read? Or that I am mentally incompetant?

Sigh... There is no more to say. I might have to make this blog private if this goes on.

A tribute to my favourite series.