I think the answer for today’s topic is no longer new to you my dear readers. If asked about my hobby, I can only think of one major hobby: READING.
As I have written in my previous posts, I can compare reading with breathing. It’s vital to my existence. Without it, I feel nothing.
When I was young, I didn’t like going out with my siblings and cousins to play especially outdoors. Aside from the fact that I disliked sweat, I didn’t like to hear their squealing. I preferred staying inside the house. Alone.
Some of them called me a loner because I prefer my own company during free time. In those times that I was alone, I found refuge in one of the corners of our house. There, I saw a lot of books and my young mind was easily piqued with interest. One by one I explored them and was fascinated with the pictures included in the text. Later on I would brave entire books and the printed words would be my constant companions.
As I grew up, my reading skills also developed which helped me tackle advanced books for my age. When I’ve finished reading books my parents deemed appropriate for me, I found comfort in reading yellow pages and even those patient drug information paper found inside medicine boxes. Really. Though if I wasn’t that insane, I re-read my books or sometimes tried to write my own story. I won’t share those silly stories that I wrote when I was younger though.
Anyway, reading has been part of my life ever since. Sometimes I’m afraid that classifying it as a hobby isn’t enough; like it’s almost something I can’t live without. It’s either I take the positive view and see it as something essential for my life, or the negative one that compares reading as my drug I am forever addicted to. Whichever perspective it may be, I know that reading is here to stay. For good. As long as I live.
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