we, books

don’t judge a book by it’s cover…i totally and utterly agree with that phrase. can’t say i’m faithful to it, but i won’t deny the truth in it….

i know it’s an age-old saying…and i know it’s well known…and is probably repeated in different languages….in different ways, replacing books with other things comparable to homo sapiens …and the actions of people (like judging) to so many different things…

but i really do feel that people, are literally and figuratively like books…

they (i’m saying they so i can take the identity of a non human, observing the world from far away)…are page-turners…boring, interesting, the justify themselves, are the centers of their worlds, they are exaggerations, metaphorical, rigid and free slowing….pretty much every adjective that can be applied to a book, i feel can be applied to people….

and our covers won’t suffice to speak of our content….they may set some initial opinion, give some sort of ‘feel’ to the potential reader…but i think a person dressed in all black is just as mysterious and unpredictable as some one dressed in every colour that you can find in a rainbow…you’re never sure how much effect a book can have in your life…how much it can move you, or change you or wake you up…how much or how little huh?…i could easily say the same for people…

they are written by people after all….of course there are exceptions for everything and everyone…

we must be incomplete books, though….hopefully most of us will conclude our final chapters with complete stories, with out unfinished tales….

he said…’i was sitting and thinking…and i don’t know a lot about you’// i know exactly what he means.,…i talk…a lot….i talk…about everything…so there are words scattered in the air around us….but i know what he means…because we talk….a lot… about everything…and the words scattered in the air around us…are big, awesome, wide, far reaching…but they paint vague, big pcitures….the who we are, and what we are…are like glitter dust that we blow into the air and are so light and free moving…they float around the bigger heavier words…and keep floating and flying…never to be settled….

wonder what sort of a book he’d be.wonder what sort of a book she’d be..wonder what sort of a book i’d be, or you’d be…wonder if the words in the book would capture our laughter…our expressions….i wonder if a movie would do more justice to our characters and lives or books would still prove to be more worth it than the movies based on those books…

i wonder if we’d smell as warm and comforting as those books that age in the arms of those shelves in which they are stocked for years and years, when we age..

and i can only wonder…the glitter in the air keeps flying higher, further away…someday it’ll settle down..i assume…i hope i am happy then…

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