Welcome to the Club

Treasure troves of information. Enough to sate entire nations. Words and worlds within one pen are held. By a writer's hand they are compelled to bring forth whatever they imagine. Writers are like God of a world of their own making. Creating something to be awed, something that leaves people shaking. Don't get me wrong it's not from the fear but the thrills. It just makes life a little more interesting, if you have books, who needs pills? Real life is oh so humdrum, who can blame me for wanting to escape into a land of my own: where among the characters I roam - a knight there, a princess and a mage too? Oh there's the detective and the lawyers and courts aren't far behind. Over the horizon you see dragons and bison; horses, phoenixes and unicorns abound. When your head is more interesting than the life you are living, then welcome, my friend, to the club.

The leather bound pages with their sweet temptations to them one can't help but succumb. It's crazy how much they call to me, to us: A siren's call - clarion and mellifluous. When I walk by one in someone else's arms, I can't help but take it and bid them adieu. My eyes devouring with a ravenousness like one that helps demons survive, my brain building portals inside my head to all the worlds I read about. I can now visit them whenever I like and change the story however I want. The protagonist is me and I am the key to unlocking my own victory. The bards sing songs in my honor; the assassins quail when they hear my name, and there has never been someone more virtuous and true. When you are the one with your mind high above the sun, then welcome, my friend, to the club.

That the end is near is what I fear, turning the last few pages one by one. I close the book and I pause for a moment to reminisce about the journey, the laughs and the falls. A single tear rolls down my cheek as I'm reminded that everything comes to an end. I take a deep breath and steel myself as I plunge into another realm. Reading is an addiction more dangerous than drugs as one finds pieces of themselves scattered amongst their endless swells. When you feel frustrated when a character does something stupid, when you get emotional when they do, when you finish a book in a day and are doubting whether to hug it or throw it across a room, then what you're feeling is something I do. When you're so engrossed that the story plays inside your head like a film, when you forget the time and spend many sleepless nights, when you reread the same book a thousand times - you're not alone in this too. When you buy more books than you can take and buy some more just in case, when you read books as one would breathe air - to fill up and live - then welcome, my friend, to the club.