A peaceful reading, when I sit on my brown sheeted bunk bed reading a random novel I bought for a book sale - a random one I didn't particularly have on my reading list. A peaceful reading I must say, as this book doesn't have much content but is still a sweet distraction. Peaceful, I must surely tell because the only thing that surrounds me is silence - except for the rhythmic sound regarding the speed of the fan. (Oh, not very rhythmic actually. The fan turns on and then turns off - the power cuts here are too frequent.)
A peaceful reading, as I hear sparrows by the window chirp adding music to my reading. The book is getting boring, it does get dragging for someone too used to thrillers but it is still a peaceful moment. It's in these loveless moments that I see the beauty of stillness - of how quiet things can actually be, as I, on the other hand, keep shifting from self harming tendencies to self loving compulsions. It's in these moments that I start to understand and embrace parts of me that aren't me. How peaceful are moments like these, how peaceful a reading indeed.
01.08.2018 |
The rants I write and cannot explain ~
27.07.2018
A peaceful reading time is what my restless soul seeks...
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