I have lost my interest in books.
At first, I thought that I wasn't reading the correct genre. Then I tried new ones, multiple times. Then I realized I was maybe pretty busy to read a book in between virtual classes and with an entrepreneurship project I've been working on. But, still, those things did not keep my day completely occupied (and I get a bit depressed every time I find myself procrastinating, or even when I cannot find something to fulfill my day). So, why can't I focus on my readings? Because I can only feel something about it when I have already finished it. The process is meaningless to me.
I remember when I was a nerdy preteen reading John Green's books that the other nerdy preteens would cry in the process of reading. I never could. I didn't get emotional in the process, but then I'd find myself two weeks after finishing crying about Augustus' death in The Fault in Our Stars. So, when I was around 15 I stopped buying books from that genre, and I began to read what is currently my favorite genre: true crime. Why? Because I could google the story and won't feel disappointed about the end. I couldn't get spoiled with some crime that at a certain time would be on everyone's TV. In fact, I would buy the book knowing what is going to happen. True crime is based on crimes that went wrong for the bad guy: if he had got away with it and escaped and disappeared, we wouldn't be talking about him, about why he did it, about what he had for breakfast the day of the events.
This morning I'm writing from my sister's notebook. When I turned it on, I read these words on her collage wallpaper: why is it that when the story ends we begin to feel all of it? It caught all of my attention. I haven't even gone to change my clothes since I woke up 2 hours ago because I had to write this article. Why is it that when the story ends we begin to feel all of it? Is this talking about books or about life?
I find myself sometimes laughing about something funny a friend said the last time I saw her. Why I didn't laugh this hard the first time I heard it? Was I paying enough attention? Or, think about when you make a new friend in some random place, and you don't stay in contact other than by following each other on Instagram and stuff. Have you ever thought about the moment you met them and said "Oh, we could have talked way more. I could have asked them about stuff.", but now you can't because you're not brave enough to restart a conversation?
In the future I'm scared of feeling melancholic when my kids ask me about my youth years and I would still have regrets then. So, I know it will sound a bit like a Pinterest motivational quote but, live in the moment. Laugh, cry, get mad, discuss, debate, fight, love, hate. Are these the years of our lives? I don't know. But, just to be sure in a certain future, try to make the best out of it. I hate waiting for this near future, but there are some things I cannot control.
Why is it that when the story ends we begin to feel all of it? Is it some teenage crisis?
