Nope. Not reading.

Looking at all these unread books lying in front of me, I feel guilty. Bad. Sad and depressed for my inability to do justice to them. 

While crossing all these beautiful libraries around, while looking at these people completely engrossed deep down in a world so far away of words. I wonder. I imagine. I irresistably wonder. If only all books could be squeezed into a magical potion; that I could simply drink and know all of what's there. 

Since the last few months, I haven't been able to complete even a single book. All these pretty titles. Each time I pick or get a new book, I feel my heart skipping a beat. Yet another. This time, I promise I'll start. But somehow, I don't. I don't, perhaps, because overtime, I seem to have grown attach to books. To topics. To the whole feeling of reading and knowing so much. The feeling has grown into this overpowering emotion that leaves you completely overwhelmed. Just one page. It takes just one page of absolutely any book here to get me thinking at the pace that I am unable to keep. Just like often, we struggle to keep pace with expressing our rapidly occurring thoughts through words. Just like so, I struggle to keep pace with my accelerating heartbeat and ideas/opinions that start playing formula 1 within my neurons set. 

I then feel like that sea. One of those two seas in Palestine. The first one is fresh with fish in it. It gives life. It shares life. It perhaps is more capable. Because it gives more. It is beautiful. It is alive with flow. Receives and gives. And then, there is another one. Dead. No life. Perhaps because it retains the water it receives rather than giving it forward. It is dead with no flow. I feel like the dead one. Not because I have no avenues to give. But because I feel I don't. So after reading a page, I don't know how to share. what to share. Who to share it. I feel so high according to worldly standards that I am afraid of being labelled crazy. And hence, I curb it. I curb myself by not reading. By not picking up another book. 

Here. I said it. I haven't been reading much. Maybe someday, I'd be successfully able to reach that second page of any of these beautiful titles lying in front of me. Gracefully, maybe then, someday, I'll absorb each word and feeling behind each word so well. Maybe then, I'd also patiently sit and feel secure. Among all these books. The day, when I wouldn't need to struggle to keep up with my need to express what I have just learnt. I'd just sit and watch while the aura of literary sphere help me transfuse to the environment. 

Until then, I sit here. With my books. Some of them the best of the best titles. Life changing ones. I sit with them, inhaling deeply their smell. Wishing that I was worthy of reading and sharing in real time.