Books
Books have always been an escape for me. I started reading at a very young age, and I can’t recall not having a book tucked under my arm wherever I went. It was the same in school and I’d end up spending an entire recess reading books while my friends ate. That was partly due to the fact that I didn’t have the courage to order food, but I was always satisfied to go hungry just because I had an entire world waiting for me in whatever novel I had my head buried in. When I tell you I read, I mean I read everything and anything I could get my hands on.
Sure, there were the typical fantasy novels a kid my age would get into. Harry Potter was and still is a big part of my life (I dare you to ask me any trivia question), and so were other genres. I read a lot of romance novels that taught me how I was supposedly way behind my peers when it came to that department, and even some sci-fi (which isn’t my favourite genre at all but I guess I could enjoy some of Dean Koontz’s writing).
Now that I’m much older, I don’t read as much as I wish I could. I work multiple jobs and get badly underpaid for it. I survive but that’s only because I have the luxury of living in one of the world’s most expensive cities and thus I still live with my parents. There’s no shame in it of course, but that’s a whole other discussion for another time.
