to steal away the hours

I know I said I would write something worthy of words today but... I spent the entire day enveloped in a book and suddenly it was midnight. I'm almost resentful of the book to steal away the entire day, my mind included, but what would I have done otherwise? Not much, I guess. And I think... how is it that words, lifeless and still, imprisoned on a sheet of paper, can come alive within your mind and swallow you up into another dimension entirely?

Amazing. And I wonder if I will ever write something so captivating, shocking, mysterious or beautiful that it steals the hours away from someone's life?

The thought alone is enough to keep me awake, my mind swirling with ideas and possibilities. Why? Why create this world in which so many find themselves lost in? Their minds literally held captivte within the pages of a book. Simple scriptings evoking real-life emotions. An escape from reality perhaps?

I have a wild imagination. Always have. And after I read a book, it's like I've watched a movie. I can see all the characters, have their world invisioned entirely from colors to coordinates. Of course there's gaps and things my mind seemingly skims over, but they are just replaced with the excitment at what lies behind the next bend. And I can create it. This is what I love about books, and resent about movies that are made from books. When the characters or settings don't align with the images I have carefully crafted in my brain.

Perhaps one day I will write something that will capture you.