Webbready

Numbers and letters form words, and from these words spring sentences, verses, paragraphs, pages, articles, chapters, scenes, plays, and entire novels of prose and poetry. When my eyes skim over them and my brain interepets the symbols before me into meaning, I find myself being absobed by the entire process, to the point where the outside world with its stimuli can give me nothing in comparison. The stream of consciousness begins not in one’s mind, but with the very signs before me, and arranging them in my mind gives me joy just in the power of reading.

Of course that is not to say that I am indiscriminate or neutral about what I read. For me, there is a always a purpose behind the act of reading, whether it be for information, for analysis, or for entertainment. Still, at times, even when my eyes come across material that I would have no interest, my mind takes supreme enjoyment out of the process of reading and interpreting. My mind also longs to create, but for now, I satisfy myself with sifting the words of another party than distributing my own.