A truly guilty pleasure...


This week of all times i decided to indulge myself. It is towards the end of term, and despite the fact that I should have my nose pressed hard to the grindstone i decided that i was too tired for life, especially the part that requires concentration, and brain-thoughts. I picked up a book that I have been meaning not to read for some time (unlike those ones in the slowly growing pile on the shelf that I actually have to read) found the warmest blankets in the house and settled in for the long-haul. The book was no challenge (hence why I am not supposed to be reading it, but instead should be taking lessons from its more intelligent cousins) but was a treat indeed, I will not tell the name of the book, but I will tell you that a 16 year old girl with dyed-blue hair recommended it to me, and it perhaps contains talk of Dragons (alas, not the dragon 'Smaug'. That would be less shaming).

 I churned through a few hundred pages over the course of the day, only stopping occasionally to make food that would not get in the way of the book, nor soil its pages as i read (it is most satisying to be this functional about something fun, I think).

 I cannot remember the last time that I had the time nor the motivation to spend this amount of time reading, despite my love for the printed tale and appreciated every moment as one in my own, personal heaven.

 

 

Well, anyway; the moral of the story is that when life gets you down (or you simply wish to run away) there is no place better than where you shouldn't be, and no task better than one you should not be doing.

Fuq da polis

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