Friday, December 25, 2009
 
The mom simply doesn't understand what books mean to me.

She keeps wanting to throw them away, to give them away.

I really hate it.

Those books were with me through so many years, occupied so much of my free time and made me so happy. In a huge way, they made me who I am today.

How does giving all of that away take away the clutter? Its just basically removing part of what I'm made of and giving it away. If they were given to some deserving soul, I wouldn't be upset but it hurts me physically and emotionally when I see my books graffiti-ed over just because some kid had a whim to make the book more colourful.

Its like taking away the prized possession of a child.

I feel violated.
This is so upsetting.
 
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