I love Books!

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 Don't you just love books? Reading them, writing stories, imagining things about the characters in stories. I used to imagine how I could fit into a story as my own kind of character, of course I would boost myself with some kind of attribute that would help me in the setting of the story (i.e. sword fitting skills or super intelligence or the ability to talk to animals).
I also had a whole inventory of stories of my own that I would pull out on long car rides and were only ever created for the sole purpose of entertaining me when I was in a good chair and didn't feel like reading.

Yes, yes I am one of those bizarre people that can just sit somewhere and daydream for hours, hence the more boring recommendations on this blog about symphonies and whatnot. 
"What's that 21 year old doing sitting around and not enjoying her youth!" I can hear the stereotypical people yell at me. Well I enjoy sitting and dreaming! Thank you world!

But anyways back to books. This is just a post with a small rant in the middle - gosh I seem to do that a lot - to wonder at the greatness of books. Old books, for their lovely smell of old paper and the history and people who could have seen them, New books, for the way the hardcovers crack slightly when you open them for the first time and how you now those pages are yours to savor and only yours, and even Borrowed books because you know that the second you read them you can share it all with someone who has a similar interest.
Ah books. I love you so.

PS: Sorry if this seems bizarre and misplaced but I am a bizarre and misplaced person.
And! I still can't get over the fact that I'm 21 now. Yay legality worldwide!