I’ve been reading Paulo Coelho’s book entitled Brida since the recent week. (One thing I’ve learned from the said book is that we should use the word “recent” instead of last, i.e. “The last time I visited…” It should be “The recent time I visited…” because if you say it was the ‘last’ time, it might well turn out to be the last.)
It was about sorcery. And magic, the bridge between the visible and the invisible.
*A draft post since last week, I actually finished it already and drooling over Eleven Minutes as of the moment.*
Coz when I read, I feel like diving into a different world. A world I never knew existed, is existing, and would ever exist. it’s like being allowed and freely imagine, expect, assume, and make-up stories and conclusions. Not like our own life stories.
We could just go on until the end without regrets coz that particular world was all set-up and not ours. It’s all written and we could just barely read it and enjoy the patterns of life that were given to the characters. We could lurk onto their timeline whether it’s classical, futuristic or perfectly right to our era.
Magically bringing us in a place only the author knows where. It may not be an actual place in this existing world, but it does reside and created inside our minds.
People talking, conversing right at your face, fighting, pondering. Zooming in and out just like in the movies. Felt like an exclusive backstage pass on musical plays, broadways and whatsoever. It’s like having an on-set exclusive pass, or being mainly the director.
Minds blowned, fucked up, imagination flying everywhere, amazed, and freely roaming around to the ends of the universe.
And that’s how reading feels like. For me.
(August 15, 2010)