I'm not too sure why I'm typing this right now. It's been ages since I last entered anything in this particular blog, mainly because there was nothing much to write.

Nothing I can think of anyway.

My life since the last post has been, to say the least, rather humdrum, ho hum, and the like. Haven't had much of a muse to write anything at all, something that's been really bugging me.

I did, however, manage to get some reading done. Some. It made me realise how much I'd missed curling up with a book, or at least isolating myself in the water closet till my mother started banging on the door. Reading, is fun.

It takes you away from whatever it is that's in your life right now, and trasports you somewhere entirely different yet quite the same. Alternate realities, so to speak.

To live through the lives of characters seems to be some kind of novelty most of us enjoy delving into. Be it novels, movies, anything, we just seem to love, being someone else? Looking throgh the eyes of another person? Do what we could never do in real life through these characters?

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Do we seek these things as a medium in which to escape our own reality? Are we afraid to face the everyday?

Am I?