So it’s a week since learning was officially finished for me; a week that I spent on the balcony most of the time (yes, I do have several sunburns, but it’s quite worth it), reading; a week in which I simply enjoyed myself, and a week in which I found out how much I missed reading, since that was what I spent practically all my time with.
Reading. Reading has made up a major part of my life, a major part of my personality, my creativity. When I was younger, I spent practically all my time reading, drowning in all those books, all those words, disappearing into those strange worlds. I have to admit that I neglected reading in the past time, when I was too busy with school and personal problems. I’m not saying I didn’t have the time to read. I did have the time (seeing that I only started to actually study in the past few months), but not the strength, the motivation, to actually do so. There was constantly something else on my mind, I couldn’t really focus on the words for long (especially when they were written in German), and there was the continuous feeling that I should be doing something else than reading, and so I did. My head was so full with all sorts of things that I couldn’t concentrate on books any longer, that I didn’t have the ability to “let go” and simply read. And in the past few days, I noticed how much I had missed that “reading” feeling.
What an amazing feeling it is to let go of all the things around you, to let your imagination work, to switch into a different reality entirely, seeing, thinking from a different perspective, enjoying yourself. Those past few days actually were quite amazing, as they brought something back to me that meant so much to me. I haven’t read that much in… months, I guess, even though I wanted to. One moment, you’re in Paris (Claudine geht by Colette), the next moment you’re in Nazi Germany and look through the eyes of Death (The Book Thief, which I read this weekend and finished just half an hour ago), and then, the next second, you’re on the Discworld (Moving Pictures, which I am currently reading). All this within one week. Amazing. I love that reading feeling.
The Book Thief, however, really astonished me. I’ve read quite a few books, really, but this is one of the books that are really unputdownable. Brilliantly written, simply amazing, with so many emotions, so much meaning. I was surprised, sometimes, that I had tears in my eyes when I was reading, and I seriously couldn’t put the book down. About 250 todays, about 250 pages yesterday, and some pages on the day before that. I’m still quite overwhelmed by that beauty.
I also realized, though, that I read more slowly now; seems I’ve lost my “practice”. I still read considerably fast, but not as fast as I am used to. So I’ll go now and improve my pace, and I’ll have a great time on the Discworld. 
