Me, I, and You

I keep wondering what my friend said about reading a book. That it is like peeking into the writer’s inner world. And to some extent I agree, yes, but then I disagree and fully. How can we think we know anything, that our assesments are real if we are restricted by our views? We make assumptions so easily and think them to be true. We seldom ask people what they think, meant, or are. And I think a good writer can borrow others’ worldviews and run with them without letting themselves enter the picture. Also, I find that we often make too static assesments about people and things. We are in flux. Situations matter. We are not the same person we were tomorrow than today!

Thank you for reading! Have a good day ❤