It's started when I was in despair - the stuff that happened all at once within a 2 month period - my uncle's sudden death, mom's illness, and Tim's mom's unexpected and outburst sickness. The tragedy in family had endure as if it would have gone on endlessly. I was depressed.
Then one night, after a tiring day at work, while sorting out a pile of junk mail, I picked up a tiny book not bigger than my palm but full of such incredibly encouraging words of wisdom. Reading the book from front to back, my mind absorbed and digested every word so much it put off my distress. The experience shocked me as I'd also been a reader but why this time's so different than every other time? It could be the stuff I read was not my usual preferences (Economy, Politics, and News)
Reading the books I was blocked out of the dull and painful world - the feelings were so great I yearned for more. I wanted it linger and permanent so I continued on reading. I've been up late and into early morning every night keeping up on my marathon reading. I have sleep deprivation and look like shit but my soul fulfilled.
It's my uncontrollable addiction.
I want to be myself again. I had lost it in the past few months and lived in fear - being terrified of things that never happen. I want to be myself who never look back in the past, live the moment, and look optimistically to the future.
Until that time-----