We get high off of books, and that’s the least of our gorgeous insanity.
Hello, dear deadlings!!!Is it- is it summer already? Oh… my… bloody… purgatory. IT IS FREAKING SUMMER!! Why did the Frozen song just bombard my brain cells, like I don’t have that many, stop trying to kill them- and as such, what better way to celebrate freedom than making a tiny list of things other people think we’re crazy for doing?
It’s the cherry on top of the cake.
The boyfriend that promises to buy you books in a land of rotting innards-
If you pictured that, I’m so sorry.
Am I really though? Nahhhh
(I really do love y’all)
Let’s jump right in without breaking our necks in the way, loves!
Firstly, let’s be honest. We judge other people by their reading habits. HEAR ME OUT, JUST GIVE ME A SECOND- not all of us actually SAY the things we’re judging, but it’s there- don’t try to deny it, please. Like for example, the most common issue booknerds deal with is bookmarks. Or a problem that I personally deal with because I can never actually find my bookmarks? And it’s incredibly annoying!! Double exclamation mark because whyever the heck not- However, this is how we readers judge other people’s bookmarks.
There are bookmarks.
And there is DOGEARING.
Then there are the questionable bookmarks… you get my drift.
I- hm, see? I was already beginning to judge, but this is a safe place… breathe in the stress… breathe out the peace…
I still can’t get that saying right but yeah, inhale, exhale, cough, choke if you dog ear- I mean. I’m sorry. My younger self was addicted to dogearing, you see. She loved it. If younger Booksy saw a page or a paragraph, or a word (you cannot sit there and tell me that when a love interest says ‘come here, love’ IT DOESN’T TINGLE. LIKE YES, OKAY, I AM STRUTTING TO YOU BOO-) that she enjoyed the look of (we are all shallow to some extent) BAM, a dogear. And after that, you know what happened? Since it was in school season when Younger Booksy was supposed to be seven feet below in a tiny coffin cradled with orchards of bones resting until awoken, most of her reading was done in the bathroom. Now, please don’t grow disconcerted, because I am sure at least a majority of us has searched for refuge from interruptions and chores in the bathroom. I would read standing up, in the shower, brushing my teeth- and as such… well, my bookmarks got more creative….
Like, what? You may ask while thinking the absolute worst because it is indeed a place where people go to get rid of those extra pounds that certain meal brought upon them, well fear no more! It was a strip of toilet paper. IT WAS CLEAN, MIND YOU- CLEAN. I would just make triangles of them and put them on the pages. I apologize, but come on… nobody had time to sneak out of the silence of the bathroom with its amazing acoustics for sobbing after a character’s death, to find a proper bookmark.
Now, if you opened someone’s book and found a triangle of CLEAN AND CRISP toilet paper- wouldn’t you judge? Exactly what happens with dogearing. Similar. Like twelve percent, but who’s counting-
Unto the second thing- we sniff books. We essentially harass them with our noses on a daily basis and yes, that without context sounds absolutely horrid, HOWEVER, have you ever really SMELLED a book? Pfft, I don’t even need to ask, you’re probably doing it right now… which wouldn’t make sense because you’re reading this, but let’s enjoy the discordance of the semantics for a second longer, shall we? I don’t think I need to clarify that books smell SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD. If I had a perfume curated with my favorite book’s scent? HAHAHAHAHAHAH, THAT PERSON JAMMING A HANKERCHIEF TO THEIR BRAINS WHILE WAITING FOR THE BOOKSTORE AT THE CORNER TO OPEN UP- WOULD BE MOI. Highly suspicious that’s in a secluded corner, but who am I to criticize people’s working establishments. *snort* (not like snort something up, but you know. I’ll silence that voice. )
Some books smell like pure delight.
Others have the scent of antiquity and stories yet untold. (the drunk author in me decided to grace this page for a hot second before she noticed all the mistakes ‘average’ Booksy had made until now)
A select few have an aroma that gets richer as the plot gains more power over the reader’s organoleptic senses…. I had to use that word somewhere, y’all. I couldn’t help it-
And besides, that saying that goes ‘it’s only weird if you MAKE it weird’ applies to this. Especially when you’re so into a book’s smell that you forget you’re around people, and then they call the K9 dogs because they suspect you of having dru-
On number three, we have the best reason to ever be sent to jail because you accidentally committed a murder. What reason would that be? Simple, readers are incredibly jealous of their books. It is a LAW, an ORDER-
“In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special
I’m going to stop-
ANYWAY, before one of you wonderful deadly readers decides to be done with me, apart from being a law and an order for readers to have the ability to glare away any person who tries to borrow a book, it is also our pride and joy!! (once again, double exclamation marks because yes) Books are our babies. Some of them are arrogant, errant, misbehaved, idiotic, useless, disrespectful, soggy, infected mucous- and then there are the ones that we actually love. The first child of the book generation (no offense to any other child, just trying to prove a point as dramatically as possible pffft) and as such, you cannot ask to have one of our books unless we SPECIFICALLY let you know that we WANT you to have them.
Is that- does that make sense? Because once, I was a naive child who wanted people to have the same love and maybe unhealthy adoration (to who tho-) of books, and she shared one of her books. One of her favorite books.
A moment of silence for that book that never actually returned alive-
*theme song to Camp Rock plays in the distance*
…What a touching moment….
Lastly, before I go Liam Neeson on that person that borrowed said book about six years ago and bring TAKEN to a whole different violent level (without blood splatter, of course, that can stain the pages) another thing that might seem insane to people who don’t understand how reading can become a person’s entire personality (or mine, at least) we see worlds in letters and sentences. THAT IS SO WEIRD, MAN. Like, the other day I was reading happily, chasing princes in the story and dying as a martyr for people who SERIOUSLY didn’t deserve the sacrifice, when out of nowhere, I realized something.
There were words.
On the pages.
Like, literal words.
And chapter breaks- and WHAT THE HECK WAS I DOING-
It freaked me out so much, you have no idea- I didn’t know where the palace my ghost was charging went, I have no clue whatsoever how I had gotten to such a point where the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore, and I was sitting there…
Staring at paper.
With squiggly lines that oddly made sense.
So yeah, apparently apart from being sleuths, warriors, shape-shifters, mates, mermaids, serial killers and love interest to an obsessive yet perfect man (Aaron Warner- marry me please) we are also book addicts.
And really, I would do it all over again.
Some people don’t understand how these bundle of alphabets organized differently in every paragraph can have such a hold on our hearts that it pains us when something happens to the fiction trapped within. It physically HURTS! Maybe that’s one more thing we would be considered insane for. Yet, I can’t bring myself to care, really.
Books are how I find more reasons to love the world we live in, because I can hate the things that need hating and separate the good things.
Reading The Hunger Games really made me appreciate how I don’t have to kill people to survive-