books, books, and more books...

i've decided that i have a problem, a sickness if you will. i like books too much. i really do think that trying to read 3, maybe 4, different books at a time might be more than a person can handle. i also can't seem to stop buying them.

there are few things that i love more than walking into a bookstore. i love the smell of the paper, the cleverly illustrated covers, and the feeling that anything and everything in the world is at my fingertips. a flip of a page can transport to a far distant land, or into the mind of a troubled soul. i connect. i feel. i live the lives that i don't get to, and experience the lives that i'm fortunate not to have to live.

i don't know why i can't seem to get enough. i crave having books. the entire experience of reading is just that; an experience. there is something about practically utilizing all your senses that creates this moment of being completely enraptured. you hear the crack of the spine, smell the pages, feel the crispness between your fingers, and see the type as it flows smoothly, allowing you to enter in to an uncharted world.