My bookshelf is a microcosm of my personality: a chaotic mess of ambition and procrastination.
On one side, you'll find the "aspirational" shelf. This is where the "classics" reside: towering volumes of Tolstoy, dense tomes of philosophy, and those intimidating literary novels that everyone seems to be raving about. These books are meticulously organized by author, a testament to my grand ambitions of becoming a well-read intellectual.
Then there's the "guilty pleasure" shelf. This is where the real magic happens. Here you'll find a motley crew of cozy mysteries, lighthearted romances, and the occasional YA fantasy series. These are the books I actually read, the ones I devour in one sitting, the ones that provide much-needed escape from the stresses of daily life.
The aspirational shelf, meanwhile, remains largely untouched. It's a monument to my good intentions, a constant reminder of the intellectual I aspire to be. But let's be honest, sometimes you just want to curl up with a good mystery and forget about the existential dread that comes with reading Sartre.
The truth is, I'm a creature of habit. I gravitate towards comfort, towards stories that are easy to digest and offer a temporary escape from reality. And while I admire those who can effortlessly tackle complex literary works, I'm not ashamed of my guilty pleasures.
After all, isn't the point of reading to enjoy yourself?
So, to all my fellow book lovers out there: embrace the chaos. Embrace the "guilty pleasures." And don't feel guilty about leaving those intimidating classics to gather dust on the aspirational shelf.
Maybe one day, just maybe, I'll actually conquer that mountain of intellectual ambition. But for now, I'm perfectly content to get lost in a good mystery.
What are your reading habits like? Do you have a "guilty pleasure" shelf? Share your confessions in the comments below!
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