In all honesty, all books are clichés. Who cares if one reads some book that’s full of it. It gives them joy or feeds their overly cliché obsession. The point is, is that they read; maybe not the best quality but they’ll figure it out sooner or later.

The best feeling is to just be in the zone, to be in the moment of bliss, smack dab in the story. It doesn’t last but it’s addicting to get away from all the stress and enjoy it, cry over it, soak it all up until it fills your whole being of desperation or happiness. It leaves an imprint on you, you can’t help but live with and talk about it.

It is as freeing as jumping into ice cold water of a swimming pool. It’s just you, and you reflexively reflect on yourself, on what you’ve just read. You notice all the gritty details and involuntary compare it to the horrendous details of your life. It’s easier to understand what other people are going through rather than understanding your own situation. Much easier to see past their difficulties and finding a solution for it.

Maybe that is why all of us has an outlet. An outlet to get rid of our frustrations or simply to ignore and forget it. An easy way out. A home to get back to. Nevertheless, it’s about time to live. Sometimes, it’s a struggle but at least, you’re making progress.

–I have no idea as to when I wrote this, I only remember writing it and now I found this in my drafts. Then I thought I’ll put this unrevised draft so I could look back and ponder on whether this is crap or not.


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