A few months ago when I was speaking with this guy who painted my place for me, he asked me where I'd like to fix my television set when I get it. I told him I wouldn't be getting any. He was perplexed. I told him I was building a ginormous book collection that would have every genre, and that when anyone comes over, I'd offer them a book. Well after I gave them water or whatever they wanted of course, haha, I am not a Loony. Today I looked through the dozen of books I have collected and I was proud of the diversity in them.
The last few weeks has been fucking horrible. The sheer apathy and lack of motivation to do anything, include read has taken a rather unhealthy toll on my well-being. I am not the effusive lad as always I would share nothing and gloss over it. I am fine.
I looked through my collection and it turns out I have more self-help books. As cliche as they are, they have helped me grow and transition into the world of books and literature. I still have a soft spot for the self-help genre albeit there is a lot of jargon out there now. Robin Sharma piece, I have opened only a few times. Still as good as new that. James Patterson's piece is actually amazing. I read a decent amount and I am enjoying the fast-paced crime thriller already. Atomic Habits? Everybody should have that in their collection I reckon.
One of the best Biographies you'd see. Well, I am not one to talk. I think I have only read this one, and even only read twenty-five percent of it, haha. A genre that is not spoken off enough. It's a fascinating thing to look through the life of someone great. Their childhood, growing up, etc. Their pain, happiness, suffering, and struggles, are what makes them tic and all.
Some fancy titles here, but I am trying to finish Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. A book everybody should read at least once in their lifetimes. I told myself earlier this year that if I don't read, or finish any book this year, this book, I will.