As I grow older, my thirst for wanting to see the world grows stronger. Though I think it’s supposed to be the other way around where, when people grow older, they just want to relax at home after work and not go anywhere else. People tend to get used to this cycle called routine. It’s like age, which is clearly a number, stops us from growing and wanting more for our selves, we get used to a routine and change and growth disrupts that.
For these past couple of months, I feel like I have been experiencing a lot of anxiety over creating the perfect image and story o go along with it. So I took a step back and went back to square one. In the process I found the joy of reading. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit that I recently picked up recreational reading this year, seeing that I want to write a book someday. But growing up, I wasn’t permitted to read anything other than my school books. In college, as an adult swamped with studying, I couldn’t find a reason to pick up reading for fun. But now since graduating, and taking a year off contemplating my next move, I’ve finally picked up a book to read. I’ve always prided myself in being a good writer, at least when it comes to first person writing, but reading books have definitely humbled me. It’s funny because I even googled, “Can I write a book without ever reading?” and there was one answer that stood out to me, “to write a book without ever reading, is like a blind person describing the world they have never seen to someone else.”