When the world around me bothers me so much, I put on a curtain to my real world and get myself lost inside the fictive world. There I can just be and laugh and do and exist.
For me… stories are the balm to a wounded heart. They are magic. My magic. With a wand of books, I will be vanished into the thin clouds and will come out to another world.
Stories bring me to a world, far, far away, where I can be anyone. I can be everyone.
Stories abosorb me inside them, with their power, and I will be far off in this place where superheroes trudges and supervillains plots to destroy world.
When I read stories, I can forget who I am, what I am currently going through, I can forget all my sorrows and sad days and bad memories and just laugh out loud or cry for someone else or cheer for my favorite superhero.
It is all in the pages… in the stories… that power to get you away from your reality for a while.
Without stories, my reality would have made me into nothingness.
With stories… I am still something!
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