My love for books and literature, which isn’t even as immense as others, has gotten far out of hand. I’m going through all the books in various crevasses of my bedroom and I’m far too afraid to count how many I actually have. And I’ve read almost all of them.
I am trying to go through and pick which ones are okay to donate and I have a strange attachment to all of them, even the Young Adult fiction books that I still have. Somewhere during my teenage years, I got rid of all of my Sweet Valley, Babysitter’s Club, and Goosebumps books. If I still had those today, I wouldn’t be able to walk in my bedroom. If I never sold those at a yard sale when I decided I was too cool (along with my Barbies), I’d have an even harder time getting rid of them now.
I don’t know, I just feel as if I need to keep all of these books- though I know I will probably not read the majority of them every again. I just feel like maybe someday I will have a child, and I will pass on my books to them, and maybe my collection of National Geographic magazines too. But then they’ll just be embarrassed by their mother who is obviously a book hoarder.
I won’t even start talking about all of my CDs and VHS’. I just need to get rid of all of these things. These material items meant so much to me at one point of my life, but that’s so far in the past I can’t see it anymore.
fated to pretend
I'm Kayla. I like a lot of cliche things, and a lot of not-so-cliche things such as: photographs, books, editing papers, whiskey, and finding typos in publications.
