At the time of me writing this, I’ve had a very sucky last few days. You know those times where everything just seems to go wrong? All the little things that build up over the days? Yeah, that’s where I’m at.
I just want to say this: Maybe you’re having a bad day or something went wrong (here’s looking at you, my dwindling candy supply), but that’s okay. Good things happen. Step out of your head and look around. Appreciate the rain or the birds or that random person who gave you a heartfelt smile. Happy things are coming your way. 😊
(also, as a sidenote and completely unrelated haha, don’t leave mean notes on peoples’ cars. just don’t. 🖤)
Now stepping down from my soapbox, lol, today’s post is kinda similar to my lil rant. I want to just touch for a moments on the power books have and how they can hold captive our emotions. Get ready for some word vomit.
I’m not necessarily talking about the emotions that a specific book evokes while reading, but rather the nostalgia that a book can hold or how just reading can give you those “it’s okay” feelings.
Those of you who have been around here long enough have probably realized that I like to reread books. I’ve reread a couple of my favorite books/series upwards six or so times. I realize that not everyone likes to reread books (in fact, all of my irl bookish friends hate rereading), and I can understand that viewpoint. I, however, massively enjoy it.
I have very specific books to read for when I have very specific strong emotions. A bad day? Yup, let’s pull out those nostalgia YA reads. Everything bad that could happen has happened (like when I first started this post)? For some reason, reading depressing books makes me feel better. Nostalgia kicking me in the gut?
What I’m saying is that books have this … this emotional power. Whether it is a specific genre or a specific author or a certain feel or rereading favorites or maybe even rereading books that you hated. For you and me, it may be different. But the power is still there.
It is such a beautiful, strong, strange power these words in books have over us. How they can shift our moods … good to bad or bad to good … just blows my mind.
Anyways, I can say that I have – unfortunately – experienced the sad reality of lacking true friends. Of having to go through middle school and high school (now, as a college student, I have gained friends) and all of those trials by myself. And, sad as it sounds, books were always there.
Some people have familiar blankets or candles. Comfort movies. Comfort foods. But for us? We have books. Reading new ones in our comforting genres. Rereading old, beloved tales.
Isn’t it fantastical that we can switch our mood just by reading letters pressed together? That books can be there, when no one else is?
Not only can they comfort the tormented, but they can uplift moods further. Or even, sometimes, bring down a high. Sometimes, I can get so manic or feel that I am in too good of a mood … and a well-selected read can “adjust” my emotions.
That’s a strange power to have. But, like I started off with, when you’re feeling especially beaten down or blue, books can be a nonjudgmental comforter.
Sorry for the word vomit. Just a rant after a hard summer + finished off with a long-day-at-school-and-now-it’s-midnight ramble.
Have a good week, loves 🙂