I thought i’ve stopped reading as much as i used to, but i was wrong.
Somewhere along the way i’ve just switched tracks from books to blogs. And when it comes to blogs, i’m indiscriminate in my reading – just as i was with books as a child. I devour them all, the mundane and the weepy; the flowery and the grammatically incorrect.
Guess i was wrong about not liking non-fiction too.
It’s an addiction, really. I like stories that are human, that are raw. Nothing needs to happen. I like to access the surface, unfiltered thoughts of whoever you are and decipher the complexes beneath.
No one is less interesting than the other.
Curated writing from those who possess more self-awareness, those are good reads. They present insights whole, complete with a tidy bow. Ramblings are all the better, where every pause, every word-used-instead-of-another is a code to what’s really going on.
I’m still an obsessive reader, just a very kaypoh one.
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