When I read, I get this feeling of freedom and liberation. In this world, where people have power over me, where I was bound by ties of relationships I didn’t want, but have been forced to have, books and stories are the only relief I have. My reprieve. 

They are my portals… to another world, another dimension, where I am free to do what I want to do. Free to live the life I want to live. There,  I don’t have obligations, I don’t have to answer to anyone. 

When everything goes wrong, when people around me threaten me with their fake smile and nasty words, all I want to do is, close myself inside a room and be transported to Hogwarts, to Paris, to Texas, under the sea, over the mountain, with the aliens and vampires and princes and robots. 

When people I trust betray me, when people I love cheats on me, when people I care hurt me with their judgements… stories help me put the broken pieces of my heart together. 

That is my life, too rooted in stories and the heartbreaks they cure and without them, life would simply collapse around me and suffocate me and bury me, alive…

Without stories, I would simply die!!! Of asphyxiation… 


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