notebook flashbacks

it was somewhere between starting secondary school and fully discovering the internet when i lost my passion to read. i don't want to pin-point the exact moment, because that seems far too sad. although i expect it was in Mrs Smiths english room, second term, first year; when we were forced to read The Turbulent Term of Tyke Tiler. it was an alright book, but i had a much higher reading level than that children's novel was aimed at.

~flashback~

when i started at my primary school, i had previously attended a private pre-school - posh name for kindergarten. and because my mother was so determined to make me into a child prodigy, i could already read. my new classmates, could not. so every day, i was taken into a little room with some woman i barely knew, and was instructed to read to her. at this time thoughts such as 'why do i need to read to her? she seems like a smart lady, i'm sure she can read for herself. plus, i don't think she actually cares if biff and chip find the magic key or not' crossed my mind; but, because of the current infant state i was in, i did not question it.

~flash forward six years~

from then on i was a bit of a book-nerd, as in year five (sixth year of primary school education) i tried so hard to beat Nicole Shears at reading the most books in one term for a class competition, needless to say, i lost. i don't know what's geekier, the fact that i was annoyed that i didn't win, or the fact that i wanted to. granted i didn't have the right strategy, i was reading victoria beckhams autobiography and swallows and amazons (fyi, the only book i've never finished, because of the aneurysm caused by boredom) instead of books actually aimed at nine year olds.

~present~

i suppose this list is a way of compensating for the five years of great adventures i have missed out on. i know here i hinted at book #2, but i can finally reveal it to you tomorrow; along with a full review! how exciting!
that was a really long, roundabout way of saying what i actually wanted to say. which was, that i seem to have got my flair of creativity in writing back. last night i could not sleep because of the disastrous geography paper two that awaited me; all i could think of was this idea of running away, but not running... anyway, this little passage came to me:

and then, it struck her. she wasn't running away. she wasn't running away from anything; except fear. fear of entrapment in a town so caging she felt she would never get free. she was running, flying, soaring to freedom. to the one thing she had dreamed of her entire life.

i honestly have no idea what it is about sleep deprivation which makes me express crazed emotions into a fantastic ball of sentences; but it does. i must have been thinking of yesterdays blog a lot obviously, because i wrote this in my notebook too:

i hope you find your dreams

and i hope you chase them with everything in you