i just finished another novel or more simply put, a book.. and since i am usually someone with an impossible amount of daydreams, i just tried to absorb those fading ...erm... i donno what 2 term them, its something lyk wen u eat something, their is an aftertaste that lingers... i hop u get d idea...
anyways, i realized with those afterthoughts, that i was just over with a life that i never knew i had, just by reading a book ...and finishing it...
if its a proper novel, u just discard your own life for the moment, and take on a whole new different life of the character u are reading about, be it a self-doubting virtuous detective with a melodramatic hunger for catching criminals, or a hesitant writer who has yet to encounter fame and money in his profession...or even the classic damsel in distress who cant resist the physical charms of a prince of her dreams....not that i would understand y she needs to resist them in d first place!
after each novel, i have had the opportunity to live as somebody entirely different in terms of personality, appearance....even gender.... to somebody who was uncannily familiar 2 who i was...
i took on der drinking problems, der fondness of apple pies, der dislike of body hair....
and all dis never occurred to me, even when one of those lives became over..
erm... i guess i have gone to the dark syd after al.. or its just me being crazy... gone bonkers...
but alas...now that i have thought of it..... still crazy i guess..!
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