We all take pleasure in recommending a book or two. We enjoy reading about book recommendations on the internet, in a magazine or newspaper. We eagerly open our ears to hear and we then read about new releases, then run and read the book ourselves. We take each page in a time, we get all emotions out, we read, we take breaks, we contemplate, we discuss… that’s how we live. That’s how things work, at least in our world.
Some people might notice how I activate every muscle in my system to talk about a book and recommend it, to anyone (even those who do not understand the pleasure in reading. I love recommending books to my friends, but with all honesty I must confess I hate it when they recommend me some books. I hate it even more when they tell me “you should read this and that.”
I’m a bookworm, or I used to be. I love reading. Books are my joy. In them I find my rapture. I breathe them to survive. Whether they’re electronic or on paper, I love them. They give me joy.
I cannot simply understand why I refuse to be told what to read. Is it because I find myself surrounded by books I cannot find time for? or is it by believing that I am the only person to recommend books for my own self. I find what people read and I take that as a recommendation, but if they tell me “read it”, would I actually read it?
Books are for me. And I am for my books. I read them because I want to, because I need to. Not because I was told to do so.
Why am I being stubborn? I will read them, after all.