Books

I live in my dreams and
die in my waking moments.
I thrive in the tragedies but
suffer my everyday routine.
For life is excruciatingly boring
with no pain, no terrifying
adventure to break up the
normalcy. I would gladly live in
a book - and not just a fairytale book,
but any single one! - since it
would supply me with my needed
dosage of tears and thrill and
fear and anger and happiness!
Yes! That is what I need, a
whole array of emotions laid
out sporadically like splashes of
rainbows to ensure that
my emotional needs are
always met. But here!

Here in this world of normalcy!
Nothing extravagantly ludicrous
occurs. I am stuck for
countless days in a slow
routine of nothingness. I can feel
myself fading away, my life disappearing.
How can one live without liveliness?
But suck me into the pages of a
rich novel! I would run through the words,
from cover to cover, praying for the end to
never come. And yet I still pray for the
same everyday. Dragging out
each damn syllable for everything
it's worth. I yearn for the passages
of endless poetry, to live in
the lives of people whom I have
never met, yet feel as though I know -
I am that person, that girl running
down the street. That man standing
there is my friend, friend from childhood.

So yes, I live in my dreams. I
feel more alive in my sleep
than when I'm up and living.
What a backwards web I have spun!
I want to be in a surreal painting,
where strange things are not so
strange and normal things are not
so common. Should a blue sun seem
so unorthodox? Or purple rain be gasped
at? And why is it so weird to think a green
moon might be pretty? I would
rather like a colorful world
with secret missions and spies
dragging me around to hidden
passageways. And torture! I
can do with some of that! If it makes
the tears and the beauty all
the better, then so be it! Bring
the pain and the suffering, for
I want to experience it all and have
richer experiences because of it.
I want to starve and bleed and
cry myself to sleep. I want to run and
fall, only to get back up. I want to
endure all the pain which I can, and then
some more. And finally, I want to find
love of my life, the perfect man.
And I want to enjoy it all,
every single feeling I can possibly feel.
I want to triumph thorugh
the impossible and find the answers

of the Earth.

Implant me in a book, and watch me fade away.
Erase me from this existence which means
much less to me. I need to fly far from
here and find the things I yearn for.
See, if you cannot give me the life I need
in order to live a real life, than I shall find that
book I speak of and read indefinitely. I
will let my life waste away if I can stay reading,
since my mind will drift and wander far
and out there is far enough. Leave me in an empty
room and I will live in that book and live
on and on forever in that clever hook.