This Morning Is About Books

Yes it is. It is only Thursday and the week is not yet over. But I need the morning to brush my fingers against the 3 I have acquired recently and the 7 that are due back in the library already. Time seems to whoosh by me and I feel like I have been left behind again. And I feel at peace. I feel at peace. I am left alone to my thoughts and I can get lost in my make-believe universe once more with no one whispering in my ear that I will be left behind. Too many people, too many minds, too many things bog me down, numb me away slowly. So this is my retreat. A sunny day with as little humidity as today is ideal. I feel like happy thoughts are within reach when I breathe in the sunshine. This drop-off-the-earth syndrome may make me seem erratic but I won't promise you today that I would be there, I won't tell you to hold the seat for me because I won't be there. I will be here with myself unless you really need me. I am going to feel the lightness of being today, away from the traffic jam of 40 other minds.

madame bovary by flaubert, the wretched of the earth by frantz fanon, the outsider by albert camus