Fantasy
Reading.
I plunge myself wholeheartedly into another world,
because I am so afraid of my own.
I read and I learn.
I learn about other people, but mostly,
I learn about myself.
Reading.
I plunge myself wholeheartedly into another heart,
because mine is so damaged.
I read and I cry,
I cry for lives that were never lost,
lives that were never found.
Reading.
I’ve learned of acceptance, of hate.
I’ve learned of failure and success.
I’ve learned that good guys don’t always win,
and sometimes there are no good guys at all,
or bad,
only gray, gray as the rainy sky.
Reading.
Sometimes I find myself in a character.
I find myself in a line on a page.
I find myself
and then I lose myself again.
But being lost isn’t so bad.
Because one day, I’ll read something,
and I’ll find myself again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Who am I without books?
Who am I without writing?
Who am I without words?
Nothing.
I’ve learned that the world is cruel,
but it’s also kind.
The word is brutal,
but it’s also gentle.
The world is depressing,
but also happy.
The world is full of contradictions,
and so are we,
the lost souls that dwell in it,
waiting to be found
by another story.
Reading.
Rick Riordan has many characters that permeate my mind.
Percy Jackson taught me that our disabilities can be our strengths.
Alex Fierro taught me that you can be anything,
and that gender is so confining.
Apollo taught me that even immortality has its downsides,
and that sometimes mortals are the lucky ones.
Reading.
I read, every day, burying my attention in pages:
fantasy, horror, psychological thriller, supernatural, dystopia,
even romance, if I’m in the mood.
Good writing isn’t about the format, or the characters,
or even the genre.
It’s about the emotion.
The raw scraped throat of a screaming earth.
The world is closer to a dystopia than we might ever suspect.
The world is closer to a utopia than we will ever know.
The world is yours to hold,
and mine to carry.
The world isn’t just black or white,
good or evil,
the world is a big fat mess of gray,
and that’s okay.
Because you can’t have janitors without
a little bit of shit in the hallway.