I just love bookshops. They might even be my favourite places on earth. It doesn’t matter where I am, how I’m feeling or who I’m with, I always feel like I’m home when I enter a bookshop. I love how the world suddenly becomes silent when I enter a bookshop, even if there is music playing, even if there are a few people talking or moving around, I love the silence it brings to my busy mind. Then, I start hearing the books whispering to me. I can hear them very clearly as I walk through the shelves, so many stories waiting to be read, so many mysteries ready to be solved, so many characters to know, so much magic, romance, history, so many lives, so many worlds. Every voice inside me screams, telling me to go on and pick one and to dwell into the world it has to offer me.

I love to see books I have read before, it’s like they are greeting me, smiling at me like old friends. I love to see books I have never seen before, they are like beautiful strangers I catch a glimpse of while walking down the street and I have this urge to learn more about them.

I love the smell that fills my lungs when I enter a bookshop, you know, that smell of old books, new books, sometimes the smell of smoke, of tea, of dust and of rain. I love it. I love small bookshops, large bookshops, I love the new and modern ones and I love the old ones, I love the crowded ones and the empty ones. I love bookshops because they are home to me. They are the perfect escape for me. Always inviting me in, like an old friend, like an elderly family member. A place where I am safe, where I am pure, where I am calm and where I always belong. I feel connected to everyone I see in bookshops, I feel like we share a shelter.

I want to open my own bookshop some day, maybe with a café in the back or maybe with a music store upstairs. I just want to own a place that is a shelter to so many people, so many people who feel the way I do about bookshops.

February 2nd, 2013 at 06:57pm