What kind of person are you?
Ebony Dinner Date Companion in London
Are you that person who pretends to love books?
Or are you someone who actually loves books.
“How can I tell Kio!” I hear you cry, desperate to know which camp you fall into.
Well. What do your books look like?
Do you have and actually use (shudders) bookmarks?
Do you take books that you’ve read to charity shops and they accept them?
Do you sell your books online and they are in excellent condition?
Do you only read books sitting upright, turning the pages carefully so as not to crease?
When you take a break do you close your book and place it on a clean dry surface?
Do the books you own look as good as new and are in the same condition as when you bought them? (What on earth is wrong with you?)
If you answered yes to one of the questions above then you do not love books. You pretend to.
People like you are the reason why first editions exist. They shouldn’t exist. They should have been read into oblivion by somebody who loved it.
Books and the treasures within are supposed to live in your mind.
You are supposed to read them lying down, in the bath (even doing both at the same time)
You have to spill hot beverages and drop crumbs in/on them
Turn the pages with wet fingers, dog ear the corners when you stop reading a page
Break the spine.
Drop in the bath.
They’re to be fallen asleep on and squished under your body.
If you regularly do one or more of the above activities then you love books!
(I solemnly promise that the next blog will be sexual in some way, although I do consider being a lover of books an extremely sexy trait).
Allowing yourself be present and opening up to a woman that can be trusted with your stories, your humour and your passion is a release all too often neglected by many of us. Free time is so rare, and when it comes to fulfilling our need for physical intimacy, let’s not waste it.