Reading Time to Forget
The older I get, the sooner things fade from my memory. It should probably be a concerning sign that my memory is getting bad. In some ways, though, it promises to be a relief.
I can't remember the last book I finished reading. After high speed internet allowed for streaming, all manner of subjects could be fed to my mind with little effort. Books began to fall off the radar.
In spite of this, several books managed to grab these old eyes in the last few years. I don't believe I've finished one in at least five, though. One will avail itself, on occasion, with a bookmark tucked somewhere near the middle, sometimes near the start.
Books aren't my issue. They've just been a way for me to avoid thinking about things that bother me. Reading used to help with that.
Clearing your head becomes so much easier when time does it for you. I'm in trouble, now. They haven't made enough time.
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