I’m just a dreamer, I dream my life away.

I’ve never been a big fan of that song, but I just love that line. Because it describes me. I am a dreamer, I live in my own world, I…dream my life away.

Sunshine, trees, petals, perfume, wind. Spring. The time of the year when you feel the urge to just sit on the grass and read a book or admire the view or simply stand there, thinking about nothing, enjoying you day. A good day for going in the park, sitting under a tree and reading a few pages of Discworld. The only thing Poe would do would be to spoil such a sunshiny day. But he is still a genius. One should read Poe at night, preferably during a storm. In other words, today was not a good day for reading Poe. Today was a good day, but not a Poe day. ’twas a day for Terry Pratchett, Jerome K. Jerome and Douglas Adams. Fun books. It was a day of fun books.

Today I fell off the edge of the world, seen Death (he was playing bridge), lived in a gingerbread house (and eaten part of a marzipan table), went on a boat on the river Thames, travelled in time and learned how to fly. The catch is to throw yourself towards the ground and to miss. A suitcase with olive oil from Santorini might be of help. Yes, you must have read The Hitch-hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (lovingly abbreviated H2G2) to actually understand that.

Whoever said books were bad was a total idiot.