She works hard for the money

So last night i found myself in a panic.

I was alone. All my friends were busy and i had nothing to do except work and i couldnt concentrate. It seems that i have forgotten how to be alone actually. I have been keeping myself ridiculously busy latley for a reason, so that under no circumstances can i begin to feel that pain lurking in the background waiting to eat me alive... im dramatic i know but it feels a bit like a little black cloud ready to rain on my parade.

I have a tendency to get lost in my head and my feelings. I am not accustomed to hiding my emotions. I speak my mind to a fault sometimes and go with impulses that tend to get me into trouble. See i hate the drama that comes with doing what i want and saying what i want when i want, but i cant seem to keep to myself long enough to see the consequences of my actions before i act on them. does that even make sense?

So yesterday evening i got home and wrote that post last night and then thought "now what?" my parents had taken over the television room and my little sister wanted her laptop back so i was without any distractions.. i was alone with my thoughts for once in weeks!

I jumped into my car and began to drive, i wasn't sure where i was going to i just wanted to get to something and then i realized... books.

Books have always been my way of escape. It's something i think ive picked up from my mother. Whenever she's upset or pissed off she locks herself in her room and reads an entire book within hours.

Books have helped me see the errors of my ways, they have shown me that there are problems bigger than mine. Sometimes they show me someone just like me doing things i want to do and give me hope that i can do that too. They give me morals and show me new places and introduce me to new people. Some of my favourite people sit on my book shelf, backing me up when i need them and waiting patiently for my return.

So last night i drove to my sanctuary.. and as i walked through the many isles i waited for one to choose me. Thousands of stories whispering for me to pick them up... promising a new outlook or a good laugh.

I choose one and sat outside on the patio of starbucks lost in it until the sun set. I forgot about this.. i forgot about my good friends.. my safety nets. The place i am truly myself in.. that i feel comfortable going to.

So if you read this.. what would you consider a book worth picking up? a real page turner?