At some point in my life, I had decided to stop talking. I made a conscious effort to change myself, and it wasn't a change that was particularly needed. I don't even recall the exact reasoning, though I can only assume it is because someone had told me that I talked by far too much!
While I do recall this portion of my life, I can also not recollect how long this lasted for. I do recall immediately no one seemed to notice when I stopped talking, and I suppose something like that sticks with a person. It makes it seem as if nothing you were saying was really worthwhile or noteworthy.
It would be nice to be noteworthy, and worthwhile, but at the same time, it is difficult to carry the burden of being such on your shoulders.
As you know, I've been reading Anne of Green Gables, and I actually managed to breeze through the second chapter with a large upward twisted smile on my face. I have to admit, I swore, a few times while reading the long paragraphs of inspired thoughts that Anne has when she is talking to Matthew on the long wagon ride towards home.
It is a cause and effect of my lack of reading that I am bombarded by little things, it was a struggle to finish the first chapter because every small description became something by far more fascinating then the movement of the story line itself. I'd simply drop the book after reading it, and let it all sink in. Yet, because of this, the first chapter took a number of days.
I can't say for sure how fast the next sections will be, hopefully I'll be able to finish the book in some fashion so that I can go back to the life of Pi. Which, is currently on hold until I at the very least complete the first story in Anne of Green Gables for it is perhaps too much for someone who had avoided books so long to try to tackle two at once.
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