I was never told that if I stopped reading I would stop thinking for myself, and if I stopped thinking for myself I would stop being myself.
No one told me that I would become a weightless creature in a world of gravity.
And I was never told that the meaninglessness I suffered as a result of walking away from reading was reversible if I would only discover what I knew about my world by recovering what I knew about myself.
No one told me that a reading man has a chance.
But my experience is proof that both things are the truth.
I did die from a lack of meaning. But I rose by following the two new rules of reading, and by living in range of ideas about identity and destiny and origin and purpose.
I learned that reading feeds what the soul needs.