Woa, I've abandoned my blog for like a long, long time, haven't I?
Don't know if I will regularly blog like before; but I've got something on my mind today, so I decide to write something.
You know, during the course of about 6 months, I've stacked my bookshelf with probably 135 books. And, hell yeah, I'm totally broke. I used up all my salary earned with blood and sweat. Lol.
Would you consider fiction as books? I would. But not my mother. I have nothing against my mother's opinion of my bookshelf and my books'status. Yet whenever I talked to her about my books, she never called them books, and inclined to make a point of calling them "fiction". It's like she needed to make sure I was aware that they were fiction and nothing more. No useful information or knowledge can be gained from reading them, so they do not deserve the title "books. To my mom, books are only for text-books, reference books, and non-fiction books.
Reading Hopeless now. Just a few pecentage into the story, but it seemed good. A great start infact. Of course, you could expect no less from Colleen Hoover. She was born to write, I'm sure.
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