I get too emotionally attached with books and their characters. I always find myself thinking ‘I want my friends like these’ or ‘I wish I could meet this person’ or better yet I wish this was my life. I find it so hard to put down a good book because I become so immersed in this fictional world that I don’t want to go back to my ordinary, boring little life. So I escape it… for a short while. And it works. When I read, I don’t feel like a shell. I don’t feel empty. I don’t feel the loneliness as much, either. In Garden State, they say ‘It’s like you feel homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist.’ Well, that’s absolutely it. It’s as if I belong somewhere that isn’t real. So who am I? And where do I go from here?

I wonder.