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You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Sunday, January 31, 2010

My Addiction

As everyone should be well aware by now, I have a major addiction. It might not be as obvious as I think, but literature is my addiction. Reading it, hearing it, seeing it, owning it, writing it, breathing it...well maybe not breathing it, but words used eloquently, symbolically, and meaningfully are simply marvelous and feed my heart and soul. Even when they challenge my focus, my intentions, my personality; when they present views opposing my own, when they picture dark and depressing arenas, when blood and gore are their focus. It's magical to me.

This is where my problem starts.

I collect books. I've always seen myself as having the library from The Beauty and the Beast. A huge library filled with books, endless and beautiful. Old books, new books, books that can't be touched and ones I've read a hundred times (ok...don't have any that I've read a hundred times... yet...). I'm already amassing this library, in my small ten by ten room at my parent's house. I dare not count how many books I have, but the tale of my collection is easily put into perspective.

In my room there's a queen size bed, a large computer desk (the head of my bed and the desk take up one entire wall), a night stand whose insides are filled with books, and three bookcases filled with books (one of which is stuffed two deep)(these all take up two of the other walls, the final wall is my door and the length of my bed). My closet, which stores my clothes (I don't know how may I add) has a shelf in it, piled high with books two deep. There's also a two shelf bookcase I've shoved in there... and that is filled with books as well, though this one is turning into the school books, notebooks, journals and other miscellaneous books that I'm accumulating with my collection. I had to put up three shelves on the wall in the corner above my desk to put more books on. Add to all this, two under-bed roller-compartments (I don't know what to call them really) which are filled with books.

I have a problem, I know. However, I have an endless supply of entertainment as diverse as the world's history to consume: fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, spiritual studies, classics, romantics, plays, reference books, poetry, collections of short stories, cook books, essays; you name it I might have it!

Books make me happy. My second favorite place in the whole world is a book store; surrounded by novels people poured their souls into, words full of meaning and vibrant lives, messages to learn from on some level. Essentially, I'm in a room full of priceless treasures (if you look into them deep enough). It makes me feel... Helps me escape, gives me hope and determination. And buying books, oh dear! That's where I could get into some major trouble. My new favorite thing to look forward to is the Denver Public Library Book Sale! Books starting at fifty cents! Oh lord help me!

So there we have it: My addiction is literature and its consumption and ownership.

1 comment:

  1. I couldn't help but smile while reading this. I also have an addiction to books. A few other people in my office share this addiction as well, so we occasionally take fieldtrips to bookstores. I'm trying to get better about buying used books...but when I get a coupon from Borders for %30 off I feel as though I HAVE to buy a book. Because not doing so would somehow be wasteful.

    Regardless, as far as addictions to have, books is a pretty good one...

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