Why do I always get pulled into bookstores?
I was supposed to buy new shirts at the mall when I passed by a bookstore. Next thing I knew, there I was browsing through the titles. Had to stop myself and magicked my two feet to march out the bookstore.
I succeeded in not buying a book, but failed to buy new shirts in my hurry to get back home.
But then, this is nothing new. As a kid, my parents would often scold me for burying my nose in a book rather than doing my chores. They thought I was slacking off. They were right, of course. Reading has always been my escape.
In all the houses or apartments I've stayed in through the years, the clutter of books and magazines would define how the place would be "Home." In the apartment I rent now, one side of my bedroom is filled from floor to ceiling with shelves overflowing with books. Cabinets are stuffed with books and mags that won't fit into the shelves.
Even this blog isn't spared, what with the Amazon Wish List and Shelfari widgets on the sidebar.
Now you know where to look for me at the mall.
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