This above all: To thine own self be true.

why do people feel utterly lost and confused after they finish a book? is it weird that i’m already picking out a new book once i have finished the last one? I’m not impossibly lost, nor do i feel as if something inside of me needs days or weeks to recover. i can’t even go more than two days without reading, so the idea of waiting for a long time feels awkward.

yes, i was sad when i finished The Last Olympian, The Deathly Hallows, Mockingjay and other finales. yes, i have been genuinely sad when i finished books like La’s Orchestra Saves the World, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Reader, Persuasion and other works of genius because i wanted them to last forever.

but nothing has ever left me feeling like i have to swear off reading for days, weeks, months before i can pick up something new. does this make me weird? i see so many posts about this feeling and i’m wondering if i’m missing some part of my bibliophile genetics or something. i have very real attachments to some, but i’ve never had this feeling. 

just something i’ve been thinking about.