I finally finished a book recently and started a new one today, although i still have quite a few half read books lying around. Sometimes i feel sad for these books left neglected and forgotten. But for a while i was wondering how come reading seem to feel so much like a task. Sometimes i happen to buy book because they are cheap and there are many an odd title lying around in my house now. Not necessarily the most main stream of titles. I mean books are books right? You still get entertainment reading words made to form a story. Or so i try to tell myself. But today i rediscover the beauty of a good book and how it draws you into it as if you are living a different world in a different time every time you open the book and plunge into it. I devoured the book so hungrily and it was only the author's foreword. I anticipated every next sentence to draw me into the world of the author. There you can find respite from the real world if only for a moment and perhaps imagine yourself in the shoe of the story's character.