When I was younger I would listen to the same CD on repeat for hours upon hours and days upon days. I would come home from school and go up to my room and before I sat down to do my homework, play video games, or watch the Red Wings I’d hit the PLAY button on my little Sony boombox. And when whatever CD I was listening to ended (safe to say it was probably Third Eye Blind) I’d start it right back up again, without fail.
A quick aside: Sorry, Mom and Dad. I’m sure you could hear this endless repetition from behind my closed door. And, in retrospect, I’m sure it drove you at least a little bit crazy. Love you!
Young me had something of an addictive personality. I played video games the same way that I listened to CDs, over and over and over (hi there Final Fantasy VII!) and, in at least some respects I read the same way what with my annual reading of The Lord of the Rings and what have you. (And, in case you were wondering, the 2014 version of that annual reading – an addiction that has not yet faded away – is fast approaching.)
I think I have a healthier appreciation for balance these days. I don’t listen to single albums in that same obsessive way anymore and I no longer have the time to play video games with such single-mindedness. Reading, though? I still get kind of addicted to that.
It’s a good thing, ultimately. You could be addicted to worse things than books. And you could write about worse things on your blog.
Get ready for some book reviews, people.