Membredavidsarif

I've been an avid reader since I was a kid. We had a huge amount of books in the house: there was a large library in the living room, one in my parents' bedroom, one in my bedroom, and a small one in the spare bedroom. I would spend all my time reading: in my room, in the car, while walking, until I would have a headache. At school, my refuge was the library, and I would sit there reading comic books late into the night, waiting for my mum to finish work. Once I started going online a bit more, I still remained attracted to the narrative nature of these new, computerized experiences. Some of my fondest memories as a child are going to Bookfest, a local book convetion, in Bucharest, every year with my dad. It was and still is like going to Disneyland for me.

In high school, I became passionate about philosophy, and started reading copious amounts of it: I enjoyed the mental challenge. I was getting headaches not because of the sheer amount of time spent reading, but because of the complexity of the topics I was attempting to crack.

Now, as an adult, my reading habits have changed, not just by choice but due to other commitments which have piled on. Nonetheless, acquiring knowledge, to me, is sacred, even spiritual, and a way of life. As such, I still read books that bring me valuable knowledge, and once every blue moon, a couple of pages for leisure.