Autobiography of a book with dog-ears and a broken spine

Do you even know how it feels to have a part of you folded and kept aside, left at your pity and waiting to be unfolded again? That pain my pages get every time you dog-ear them. Do you know how it feels? No you don't because that never happens to you. I feel so miserable to see those creases you make on my pages.

Can't you just use the Bookmark? Is it so difficult to use one? Only the Bookmark knows what I go through, what really happens between the pages. There's an unspoken romance between us that you devoid from us every time you dog-ear my pages. While you seek comfort from me, the Bookmark seeks only companionship from me.

And then there's the broken spine. I know it's difficult to surf through my pages when I get a little fat but that doesn't mean you have the power to break my spine. If only you hadn't broken my spine, the pages could have gracefully danced every time you flipped it's pages together.

I didn't forget about another thing that you do to me. Folding my covers so that you can grasp me with one hand? Are you insane? My covers are equally important to me. They are the sacred clothes that adorn my body and the element that catches your attention.

If only you could be a little more careful. If only.  


  1. Once upon a time, I felt similarly about books.[*]
    My copy of Anna Karenina was in as many pieces as there are shards of broken hearts in the story. I kept it in a ZipLock pouch. The pouch was therefore home to brown pieces of paper crumbling from the dog-eared corners and edges - showing the history of abuse by owners past (and then present).
    Then one day, I threw it away.

    Sadness tints the memory of my decision to shift to electronic books, I did it originally for the simultaneous reduction in space and cost, but it was soon backed up by a recognition of the technology that is approaching, and regard for the environment. Although, like an ex-addict - on the sly, I often return to paper just for the tactile experience. Or if the vintage is considerable - whiffs of the hashish that the spine of an old book obviously is!

    ..outside of paper, back then (in 2011 I think) Charles Warnke wrote piece called "You Should Date An Illiterate Girl". Of all responses it got, one, by Rosemarie Urquico was interesting and broadcast most. Curiously, while it started with "You should date a girl who reads.", it concluded with "Or better yet, date a girl who writes."
    It was the fashion then, so I'd reblogged it.

    In what resembled the undramatic fall of a short row of dominoes, her piece elicited varied responses too; everything from "Yess!", to "Don't tell me what to do.", to "That's just judgment."

    If you decide to (google and) read the pieces, let me know what you think.

    1. This is a really nice piece. Do have a blog? I could check it out


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