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Just a few days back, my professor on Film Writing asked us to revisit a place we're familiar with and see if there's something new we would see about it. This had me thinking for days, just trying to rack my brain for any possible place that I'd be interested enough in AND have the time to revisit. Somewhere I'm familiar and fond with, but have not seen for a while... and then the answer hit me.
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I've always been very fond of reading stories for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was a kid, I would devour every piece of narrative I would get my hands on and this word ingestion would pretty much sum up how I spent my free time (which were a LOT) waaaaay back then (sigh, the good ol' childhood days).
This hobby inevitably lead to me having a stack of books that may or may not have read (yet). However, although sad to admit, my reading has slackened these days due to busy schedule, whether on school or just plain social duties. This is why if I'm asked what place I miss the most, that would be none other than my shelf,* home of the alternate universes I have lived through.
*by shelf, I actually mean a drawer where I put my thingamabobs**
**by thingamabobs, I mean books
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At a Macro Observation: Basically a messy, dusty, stuffy mishmash of papers and books and dust and every piece of school work I didn't wanna throw away.
(no pictures for obvious reasons)
Given my very *cough* organized personality, I wasn't really surprised at the mess. But to be honest I was secretly delighted (well, not so secret anymore) seeing all those books I've forgotten I read.
At a Micro Observation: Exciting times. A lot of "first-time" experiences (no innuendo intended).
(discretion: if dirty and unkempt books distress you, save yourself and close this page.)
When one is willing to get her hands dusty, one is sure to find some fond memories, including that short stories compilation book read when she was in 4th grade or that first horror book she ever laid her eyes on and even that classic Filipino novel Noli Me Tangere which basically is a required reading but still enjoyable nonetheless and a whole lot more stuffy memories.
Like in music and in pretty much everything else in life, I've had a lot of "phases" in my reading experience so far. There was the chick lit phase, the gore phase, the manga/comic book phase, the crime phase, the drama phase, the high fantasy phase, the horror phase, and lastly, the phases I currently am in: the Asian-author phase and the classics phase. It doesn't mean that I've outgrown the previous genres, "phases" are more like, the flavor/crush/color of the week or whatever.
Below are the most memorable readings that I can physically show (because, you know, e-books)
*I may probably be one of those few people who actually prefer e-books over tangible copies
Mary Higgins Clark: if it weren't for my sister, I wouldn't even have picked up my first full- blown novel (which was Mary Higgins Clark's, my sister's favorite author). Shown in the pic are just the three I managed to read (I soon realized crime suspense stories aren't my cup of tea) but my sister would literally hoard every MHC book she sees everytime she drags me to the bookstore. Pfft, nerd. :D
Nicholas Sparks: Message in a Bottle was the first chick lit that I have ever read. To be honest, at that young and inexperienced age I read this, I was thoroughly blown away by the complexity of the plot (I was young, forgive me) and so I proceeded to read The Notebook next. And to anyone who's read 2 or more Sparks novel it would be understandable when I say that finishing The Notebook was when I got the first of many "the-author-must-be-kidding-me-right-now" reaction.
Elmer: my first comic book, under the manga/comic book phase. It was also this year (probably around 2011) that I kind of focused on practising whatever artistic hobbies I have, mostly because reading comics would inevitably make your hand itch only a pencil and paper can ease.
Sherlock Holmes: aaahhh. My very first classic novel. I used to think classics are boring and cryptic. I was wrong. I was very, very wrong.
Isang Dipang Langit: I was introduced to the wonderful world of poetry by this magnificent book. Up to now I have yet to learn the words that would suffice to describe the very different "vibe" Hernandez has made me feel when I read this, and so I would leave it at that.
Censoring an Iranian Love Story: this novel has transformed my taste in books in just a few pages. If I were made to choose a book I would re-read for a decade, I would choose this in an instant. This is what made me enter my Asian-author phase, which is the longest- running phase I'm in (since 2012, I think?). That being said, "I love this book" would be an understatement.
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What all these made me realize: Just how far I've grown.
(a 2 AM rambling on books and existence.)
Of course I'm not saying that I'm a wizened 18 year-old or whatever. It's just that this trip down the memory lane showed me how far I am compared to my tastes before (not to imply what I read now are "better", but just very dissimilar compared to before). How, inevitably, you WOULD transform and evolve by the things you are doing right now, at this very moment. How, those seemingly unrelated books somehow made a trail that lead me here, to where I am now. How, what I am, and where I am right now, is just another footpath for my future self. And how that future self is not the destination but just another path I would eventually have to take. And so the cycle goes on and on and on. Who knows where all these would lead?
end.
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(I was not drunk when I wrote this, just very tired and sleep- deprived.)
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