She noted uneasily that they had begun to walk again... The farewell had been forgotten.
I have decided that I far too empathetic for my own good. And not even with real people (though a little of that too) but with books! With people that don't even really exist. They don't just feel real- they feel like I am them. Strange.
I read Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister this morning, and just finished off The Giver (a book I should had read ages ago) a few minutes ago. They left me feeling alienated and alone. Like a couldn't connect with people, and would never be able to.
Its a very strange sensation; feeling that apart from everyone when your mother is sitting about two yards away.
I think I need to read a happy book next. I'll have to find Long Walk to Forever before I go to bed. My nights have been weird enough lately without feeling like this while I try to sleep. Kurt Vonnegut has got to be my Hero. I loved him even back when I was in fourth grade and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about- Willie had to explain every little detail to me.
I haven't been able to sleep before 2am for about a week now. Every time I lay down, no matter how exhausted I was, I suddenly got a horrid headache and a surge of restlessness. Not fun. But I have now finished an entire pot of Yellow Buds tea, and will try this whole sleeping thing once more! After I read Long Walk to Forever, of course. Such a wonderful short story.
"Could you come for a walk?" he said. He was a shy person, even with Catharine. He covered his shyness by speaking absently as though what really concerned him were far away--as though he were a secret agent pausing briefly on a mission between beautiful, distant, and sinister points. This manner of speaking had always been Newt's style, even in matters that concerned him desperately.
"A walk?" said Catharine.
"One foot in front of the other," said Newt, "through leaves, over bridges---"
I read Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister this morning, and just finished off The Giver (a book I should had read ages ago) a few minutes ago. They left me feeling alienated and alone. Like a couldn't connect with people, and would never be able to.
Its a very strange sensation; feeling that apart from everyone when your mother is sitting about two yards away.
I think I need to read a happy book next. I'll have to find Long Walk to Forever before I go to bed. My nights have been weird enough lately without feeling like this while I try to sleep. Kurt Vonnegut has got to be my Hero. I loved him even back when I was in fourth grade and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about- Willie had to explain every little detail to me.
I haven't been able to sleep before 2am for about a week now. Every time I lay down, no matter how exhausted I was, I suddenly got a horrid headache and a surge of restlessness. Not fun. But I have now finished an entire pot of Yellow Buds tea, and will try this whole sleeping thing once more! After I read Long Walk to Forever, of course. Such a wonderful short story.
"Could you come for a walk?" he said. He was a shy person, even with Catharine. He covered his shyness by speaking absently as though what really concerned him were far away--as though he were a secret agent pausing briefly on a mission between beautiful, distant, and sinister points. This manner of speaking had always been Newt's style, even in matters that concerned him desperately.
"A walk?" said Catharine.
"One foot in front of the other," said Newt, "through leaves, over bridges---"