I am a fourth year English Literature student, and therefore, I consider myself to read quite a lot. I have often noticed that when forcing to read someone a lot of the books that you wouldn’t really read out of your free will, or on the contrary, reading the books you really enjoy, but in a certain time limit, there is also a limit in one’s brain. We remember what is significant to us, but nothing more. And sometimes we twist the facts to our liking. A lot of the time we simply forget. Authors associated with pieces of literature may mechanically be in our mind like a poem learnt by heart in  the nursery, but the meaning behind.. long forgotten.

This blog is mostly for my own reflection. I’m quite an organized person: I often need to label and file things away for further reference, and do not like doing things which I know I won’t value in the future. Not valuing does not mean, that I haven’t appreciated the time I have invested into doing something. Sometimes it just means that I feel the time has been wasted, because I cannot recall what exactly did I learn from this investment.

The worst thing is that you know you read something from somewhere, a tiny fact, and you cannot even recall from where, during what time or why did it stick to you. It was something that meant something during the time, but since the context is gone, there is no way to find a cue to where did it come from.

I know Google is almighty, but our own personal reflections are often better than someone else’s summaries.

In a few years, I would really love to know what did I think of a certain book at the time. Maybe in the future, when I want to read it again, I will perceive it much differently, because surely, I’ll be a different person as well.


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