(no subject)
That was the first book I’ve read willingly in a very long time, and incidentally it is also my favourite book ever. Whenever I read anything with meaning to it though it always makes me wish that I could do something like that, or I get jealous 'cause my life isn't nearly as beautiful. I hope it stays my favourite book, because I’ve never had one before. Although I’m not all to comfortable with the whole idea of reading, 'cause I do this thing where I wonder how I am managing to create some sort of picture in my head about some one who doesn't really exist, and how I can hear the words but there isn't really any sound. It gives me an idea of what it must be like for crazy people, except I guess they can’t tell when the sounds aren't real. I'm not all too sure about it really, consciousness confuses me terribly, and a lot of the time I hate how I can think about why I think. If that makes sense? On a side note i was really disappointed with the song 'asleep'. I feel a little guilty that I haven't really started revising yet, but I should make a solid effort tomorrow, but then that's what I said last night. I hate how I can lie to myself and know I’m lying, but still make myself feel better about it, I don't know how that works, I wish I did. I hope I figure out all this stuff about consciousness before I get old, I don't want to die without knowing, I want the satisfaction of knowing for sure that everything I love is real (I wish I was Christian or something). Also I hope I stop thinking about how time works, I need to learn to let things go that I will never understand. I hope somebody knows what I'm talking about...