You can see countries you've never been to without leaving your home, you can talk and see people on another continent with a click of the mouse, you can witness miracles that happened somewhere far away, right from your cozy sofa.
One of my most used books lately. |
The last thing worries me the most.
I love a good book. Furthermore, I love to have it in my hands when I'm reading it. I love the covers, I love the smell of newly printed paper and I love to turn pages. With my hand. Not by scrolling the mouse.
I just got a little bit upset today, because I couldn't find the book I wanted to read in the hard copy version.
Then I remembered another book I wanted to read, just recently, also in hard copy version, and it was nowhere to be found. But you can find them both in e-versions. And so it got me thinking - is this how it'll be from now on? I know it's a little bit far fetched, but what will happen if all the books disappear and all we have left is Kindle? And I don't like Kindle.
You can't sleep on a Kindle like this. It's not soft. |
Hell, I'm a FB addict (only because I've friends from all over the planet and my folks are far away), but still. It's nice. And then I wonder where did all the real books gone? I just don't want to pay the price of not having any real books around anymore.
Well that would be just sad. Because now I've wasted half of toner to print a .pdf file so I could read it. And because my mom went thru hell trying to find a book for me and finally, she had a friend who had a friend who knew someone who was selling the used version, so they bought it for me, and now that book is somewhere in eastern Europe trying to get it's way back to my mom's, so that she could give it to me next time she sees me. Beautiful, but sad.
I love the online world, but reading the books on the screen is tiring and I hate it. And there's no beauty in it, there are no pages and I can't put a piece of paper to know where I stopped. And it's discouraging. And unreal. And we should stick to the good, old paper books if you ask me.
One of my poor shelves, here, away from the far away land. |
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