Posted in the Throwback Thursday weekly series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

“Row, row, row your boat, Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life is but a dream.”

Serially Lost in Fiction

Writer’s note: This content is the work of pure fiction and is in no way associated to the writer ;P

The best guideline for any writer is to read, read and read some more. With all available resources, carrying a “book” around is easy as pie and you can read anywhere. There is a downside to this though and I found that out the hard way: I got caught between the realm of reality and fantasy.

It started slowly, reading a short story here, another there. Then things started to escalate. I was hooked up on longer stories, even sequels and serial ones. It had gotten to the point where I was reading on the bus stop, in the bus, at lunch, on coffee break. When I got home from work I could not wait to rush through my daily chores and emerge myself in more stories.

Feeling like the children who found Narnia, I was devouring all kinds of the stories. Re-enacting some of them in my sleep. Even taking part in conversations with my imaginary new friends in my head.

Staying up until late hours, reading, reading, reading. Sleep was scarce, almost non-existent. Drinking lots of coffee was the only remedy to somehow muddle through my work days. Even during the day fantasizing of the time I was back home and able to fully concentrate on my reading.

Then I got a wake up call. It was in the form of an intervention from my family and friends. I was on my way from work like usual and happily thinking on my next read. And there they were, sitting in the living room, waiting for me. Not a tablet, laptop, book reader nor an actual book in sight!

They sat me down gently and told me in no small way how my constant reading was affecting them.
I could not believe they would dare confronting me like this. After all, I was only reading for leisure.

Bewildered and utterly distraught I dwelled in self pity for a few days. Locking myself in my room and reporting in sick. I decided “to hell with it” and emerged in even more reading. For four days and four nights apart from potty breaks I read anything and everything.

After those days, I guess something got me thinking. Could have been the sleep deprivation, could have been the fact I had hardly eaten, but I realized I was in over my head. Then and there I decided it was time for a change.

 Next stop: Reality? Who’s Brilliant Idea Was That?