It's 3am... and I can't see the keyboard
Today, I started reading the Chronicles of Narnia. That was at about 12 at night... and I've made several attempts to put the book down and go to sleep, all of which have ended in failure.
I now I have a Christmas wish, so to speak. It's to realize the fantasy I've been having. I think I've wanted to do it for a long time, but kept forgetting (probably since we moved from Kazakhstan and left our cozy cottage behind)...
All I want is to read the night away with a good book in my hands. I can imagine it so clearly, I can actually feel the warmth of the fire and the warm feeling of hot chocolate in my mouth:
It's a dark, but clear night. The cold moon is shining brightly high up in the sky.
It's snowing.
Everything outside is white and the fresh snow glistens in the dark.
A gust of cold wind rushes in through the half-open window but quickly fades as it meets with the pleasantly warm air of the room.
There is a warm fire in the fireplace. Only the howling of the wind is heard outside with the fire crackling softly from time to time.
The room is dimly lit and the shadows from the fire dance on the grey walls.
There is a cup of hot chocolate along with a few biscuits on the table. Everything is just perfect.
I'm reclining on the sofa, with my feet in front of the fire, lazily sipping the hot chocolate and preparing for the adventure that lies ahead.
It's time to go.
It's time to go to those wondrous places where only my imagination can take me - to sail the stormy seas with Count of Monte Cristo, to journey with Bilbo and Gandalf to the Lonely Montain, to fight alongside the brave musketeers or to meet Aslan, the great lion.
There is no rush - the night is still young. All I have to do is to open a book and be instantly carried away into a distant land, where everything is possible and magic is as natural as night and day. There I can meet new friends and to follow them on their most dangerous quests.
Sleep can wait and as I am softly embraced by the night, I feel myself leaving the tiny room and flying toward a new adventure that awaits me in my imagination.
I really love reading books and I can't see myself ever stopping... I really don't care about the metaphors, similes, or allegories the authors use - I read for the stories themselves, not to dissect and disassemble the texts until they are nothing but broken pieces lying on the floor. That is why university English is not for me - they want to take the magic away from reading by making is analytical and I'm not prepared to give it up just yet... and I don't think I ever will be.
*sigh* Now it's 4am.
I now I have a Christmas wish, so to speak. It's to realize the fantasy I've been having. I think I've wanted to do it for a long time, but kept forgetting (probably since we moved from Kazakhstan and left our cozy cottage behind)...
All I want is to read the night away with a good book in my hands. I can imagine it so clearly, I can actually feel the warmth of the fire and the warm feeling of hot chocolate in my mouth:
It's a dark, but clear night. The cold moon is shining brightly high up in the sky.
It's snowing.
Everything outside is white and the fresh snow glistens in the dark.
A gust of cold wind rushes in through the half-open window but quickly fades as it meets with the pleasantly warm air of the room.
There is a warm fire in the fireplace. Only the howling of the wind is heard outside with the fire crackling softly from time to time.
The room is dimly lit and the shadows from the fire dance on the grey walls.
There is a cup of hot chocolate along with a few biscuits on the table. Everything is just perfect.
I'm reclining on the sofa, with my feet in front of the fire, lazily sipping the hot chocolate and preparing for the adventure that lies ahead.
It's time to go.
It's time to go to those wondrous places where only my imagination can take me - to sail the stormy seas with Count of Monte Cristo, to journey with Bilbo and Gandalf to the Lonely Montain, to fight alongside the brave musketeers or to meet Aslan, the great lion.
There is no rush - the night is still young. All I have to do is to open a book and be instantly carried away into a distant land, where everything is possible and magic is as natural as night and day. There I can meet new friends and to follow them on their most dangerous quests.
Sleep can wait and as I am softly embraced by the night, I feel myself leaving the tiny room and flying toward a new adventure that awaits me in my imagination.
I really love reading books and I can't see myself ever stopping... I really don't care about the metaphors, similes, or allegories the authors use - I read for the stories themselves, not to dissect and disassemble the texts until they are nothing but broken pieces lying on the floor. That is why university English is not for me - they want to take the magic away from reading by making is analytical and I'm not prepared to give it up just yet... and I don't think I ever will be.
*sigh* Now it's 4am.