Reading, Writing, Existing.

This isn't a novel, nor fiction. This is written reviews, entries, of the books I read to keep myself from becoming consumed by the silence that is existence. I talk about the reminders that bring waves of memories and fluctuations of emotions that coincide them. Words, phrases, paragraphs, books - all triggers of our own lives and identities. We are compelled to process independent thoughts on books and how they make us feel. This is where I share mine. If this isn't for you, then it doesn't have to be. I need to write, I need a place where my feelings are somewhere else.