Books Through the Senses, or Why We Read

As a little progress update, I’m still pushing through Piper, who seems to be getting in his way like I was hoping he wouldn’t do. I’ll elaborate more on this on Monday. Christian and Faithful just came into Vanity Fair, and are getting stares from the local population. Books are moving along just fine, but I want to talk about something else today.

Today is Read Across America Day, probably one of those days that should by all means be a national holiday.   In honor of this illustrious day, I want to tell you how much I love books.

I love books.  This blog is designed to express that love, that others may read and see the wonder that books bring.  This blog is also for lovers of books, who see what I see, hear what I hear, smell what I smell, taste and feel what I taste and feel.

Through my eyes, I look at books and see the entirety of time and humanity, the whole universe in the pages of a novel, a religious text, a poem.  I can see from the widest of galaxies to the tiniest of quarks as they drift about electrons and neutrons and everything between.  From the ink to the emptiness between the impresses, I see everything and nothing.

My ears hear the turning of the page, the slide of my hand down the grit of the paper. It whispers, beckons me to come and dive into the depths of existence that I have yet to find, to explore.

My nose detects must, the aging of a good, worn paperback, the years of thousands of readers coming to partake of the knowledge within its creases and words.  The ink imprints truth, or the pursuit thereof, on every page, and its intoxicating aroma draws me to euphoria as I take in its understanding.

My hands hold the cover and spine, the backbone of the books wisdom. They are wrinkled, creased with wear, and yet within my hands is power through knowledge, a weapon within understanding, sharper than any sword, with more devastation than the greatest atom bomb ever built.  When we hold books, we hold the greatest, most destructive weapon imaginable.

The taste of this power is palpable on my tongue, the words that I sound out as I read a great poem are electric, charging me to use the tools given me to devastate, to lay waste to the world about me, for it is sleeping and does not suspect an attack.

Books are dangerous, and deliciously so.  Go read one. >:)

**UPDATE**: Today, I’m going to deviate from the two books I’m reading and pick one that I intend to finish reading in one day.  I’ll let you know what I picked and how it was on Monday!

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