Hysteria, Perversion and Demons

So.

I recently (read: last March) got back into actually reading real, physical books. Utterly shocking, I know. The thing with university is that it utterly destroys any wish you had to read in the slightest, given that all you do for work is read (and write). I probably read about two books in my entire four years of university. But it's not just that, it's also just the toxic allure of the internet. Scrolling, especially of the doom kind, is so easy that hours pass in what feels like mere minutes. It's actually quite scary, really, how much time I waste simply scrolling through Tumblr (or utterly destroying my mental health on Twitter). And, let's face it, fanfic is good and fun but it's not the same as a book at all.

So, finding myself with at least forty-five minutes of time to spare in the mornings and evenings on my twice-weekly bus commute to my part time job, I thought I might as well stop staring out the window and listening to podcasts and, like, actually read. It made perfect sense. And so I did.

I was so, so happy to realise I hadn't lost the joy, it was just lying dormant, waiting to be dug up again. It was such a relief, it was like coming home. I'd been missing books, I realised, like there was just a fundamental part of me missing. I used to read so much, what happened? (Well, see paragraph 1.)

I read fifteen books last year. Some were truly great, some were pretty good, others were fine (I do try very hard not to read things I know I won't like, I don't want to waste my time on things I don't find good). I did shimmy out of my comfort zone, which was excellent, and read genres I never had before, being very much stuck in my fantasy bubble. Fifteen might not seem like a lot, but I'd rather read fifteen and allow every word to settle than skim one hundred books like some booktoker who doesn't absorb a single word. There's no point reading to boast. I finished some books I'd started and simply forgotten and picked up some brand new ones.

The downside to this rediscovered love of reading is that, since I also volunteer at a secondhand bookshop, I keep bringing home more books. I will read them, I swear! It's just going to take some time, that's all. I'm a fast reader, but I'm not a prolific reader, and most of my reading is done in 90 minutes on two days of the week. That said, I'm trying to get better at reading at home, as well (as well as juggling my fanfic writing and chronically online tendencies). I admit I do use Goodreads to keep track and do their little reading challenges, but I set mine low. I don't have anything to prove.

It's a nice adventure to be back on, I must say.

Books I read last year under the cut:

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I always forget about this place. It's been five years since I was last here, and a whole ten years since I made this account, holy fuck. I have never used it for... anything, and maybe I should, at some point, when the social media landscape as we know it eventually implodes and we're all forced to seek refuge in the ancient halls of the past... idk.

A lot has changed since I was last here, though I doubt anyone is still active enough to want to hear about it. I feel changed myself. It's been a rough few years, and I have no doubt they will continue to be rough.

Drop a comment if you're still around, people!