Saturday, November 24, 2012

.airport people, they come and go.

There are 4 children sitting behind me as we wait at out gate. All you can hear are giggles and joyful laughter. It's a far cry from the book section in the airport - everyone silently perusing the bindings and touching which ever cover strikes them. These laughing children and those deathly quiet adults seem to have something in common... they all want to be captivated by something, taken over by a laugh or an idea or a thought. They all want to be entertained. I don't remember ever being easily entertained but I do remember searching the bookshelves for anything to take me away. To take me somewhere, anywhere. To understand me or move me. I felt that as we all stood in front of these walls of books. Knowing that most of us aren't going to buy a super expensive book unless we need it to keep us sane on the long flights to and fro. I wanted to own every book i read the back of. top sellers and not top sellers. i wanted them all. i wanted the time to read them. i wanted the energy to read them. the excitement to live through them and tell people all about them. i feel like all of that makes sense. i don't remember being a little kid too often- but i imagine it's what i feel like when i'm surrounded by tons of unread books.