Why you must read more
You might think I am small, but I have a universe inside my mind
I read a lot, I always did. I am absolutely sure that without books I would have not become the person that I am today. I was just a fragile girl living in a small village, having big dreams, and reading books about young women who struggled to fit into society, who wanted more from life than routines, more than a family or a respectable job and a pension.
I was reading about young women who were desperately longing for something greater, longing for freedom. They travelled, they read and they dreamed about pursuing their life’s passion or writing a novel that would shake the world. Everything they wanted to be, I wanted too.
The Great Longing, which was ever-present in my breast, was dispelled when I read these books, only to return with tenfold strength the moment I put them down. I always had something eating me from inside, and it was a blessing and a course, because I never stopped, I never settled, but I was also restless, never satisfied and always running from one place to another.
I made my way out of my hometown and straight to a prestigious school and I was eager to learn, I really was. But after a while I despised everything I had to study and memorise at my fancy-pancy German business university.
