I’ve kind of been obsessed with the YouTube channel Nerdy and Quirky by mostly Quirky YouTuber Sabrina to a point where I can’t really go through a day without watching one of her videos. I have extremes when it comes to obsessions. I was re-watching one of her videos titled Don’t Date A Girl Who Reads where she talks about how reading is being used to devalue other methods of learning and stuff and my hypocrisy just hit me right in the head.
I like to read and I’m a serious sapiosexual which means I can be very particular about the type of people I tend to like. I’m also often likely to appear smarter and older than I actually am. I guess this makes me and people like me feel a bit superior to a different type of people who’d prefer other methods of being human beings. People who don’t like to read would just baffle me. I would think, “what in the hell is wrong with them?” and people who want to read but are just too lazy and therefore less well read than I am would receive my pity because I am a shit person. I would meet someone who’s more well-read and generally just more established than I am and I would feel bad about myself.
While it’s true that reading is an excellent way to learn patience, develop imagination and acquire an insanely broad variety of knowledge, it is definitely not the only way. I wonder if just liking books gives me a ticket to feel better about myself over my peers who’d drink and dance away their nights and choose to lead shallow and adaptive lives making sure they don’t stick out at all.
I despised people who openly advertised that they hated to read because I equated that with their need to just want to appear cool by not liking to read and this was mostly because I can’t really understand how they seem okay missing out on the certain sating satisfaction I get from a good book. But I guess the truth is, it must kind of be like how I can’t understand people’s fascination with movies like Rick and Morty or Bojack Horseman which I found so mind numbingly stupid that I wondered if perhaps that was the art of it.
I won’t lie. Even though I even asked for a round of book recommendations about a month ago, which I’m still yet to go through, I’ve lost that spark, that warming feeling that taught me to perfectly navigate without having to look up, that urgency that often got me in trouble at school because I was caught reading Harry Potter under my desk, that pure love that would make me ditch people and events to just curl up with the papers and forget that time goes by. That is not here anymore.
I don’t find people any more bearable than I did back then and even though I thought I was getting better at being at events which I do more of now, still with the utmost discomfort added to a deep fascination in the stupid and trivial things that people do, I don’t find myself craving that moment when I’d get back to my books. A very thin book would sit around waiting for me for a very long time.
I don’t know if it’s just that I have a lot more to do nowadays or if something is just broken with me. I wonder if I still get to feel superior about something that’s just practically nostalgic now and if it was even a right thing to feel to begin with.