When you finish a book ...
... it always leaves such a weird feeling back.
I've just finished both the book for English and German class today, so tomorrow I can concentrate on studying chemistry. (Don't mind me, writing blog posts even though I'm on semi-hiatus; I'm writing from my phone - making paragraphs is hard- and this won't get all too long.) And incidentally and also surprisingly, both books were truly nice. The book for English being The Perks of Being a Wallflower, which I wanted to read anyway, like months ago already, and the German book being a pretty weird but somehow amazing novel about 9 different stories that are somehow connected and deal with fiction mixing with reality.
When I put away TPoBaW, I was feeling very weird. But in a good way. And as I was processing the book and everything and thinking about how I just read about a whole year of Charlie's life so quick, it suddenly hit me that just some hours ago (before I went to driving school) I'd finished reading about yet another 9 lives. And I realised again, just how wonderful books - stories in general - are. No, I mean I've always known that, but there are just these moments that something, even if it's actually clear for you, just hits you with such intensity that you feel as if it's new, even if it's not. And just some minutes ago, it was like that.
In just one evening, I've gained so much more than I could have if I had decided to study chemistry for instance. This is why I love reading. Why I love learning new words in English and also in German and Chinese. Because words are so fascinating and can describe those feelings and thoughts of us. Okay, don't mind me. I just need to let out my weirdness after all the reading and the 10 lives I just lived through. And now I will go on with the reading log for the English book and go to sleep.
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