Everyone is always asking me what I'd like to be when I grow up.
The answers have differed ever since I was five, starting with princess, a few years later, the answer was fashion designer, or hairstylist.
The more you grow up, the more you get to know yourself, your deepest desires, you weakness, the things that make you happy, and every other aspect of your quirky and unique soul.
I learnt that I was good at arguing, making a point and my character was ideal for standing my ground. I gathered that all these characteristics would be perfect for a career path in law.
A lawyer was everything I thought I wanted to be, opinionated, authoritative and classy.
Although, this was just one of many different answers I gave.
Being at the peak of my adolescence which I also believe or be the peak of my self discovery, I realized that there was nothing I wanted to be more than an individual affiliated with books.
Whether it be a writer, an editor, a publisher or simply somebody working in a bookstore, constantly being around thousand of books, pages and pages filled with dreams and imagination.
Inhaling the scent of ink and paper that strangely no one ever thought of bottling, or maybe they did, but then again how do you expect to fit something so vast as this scent into something as insignificant as a bottle.
Although, one thing for I know for sure is that I would never actually be able to work, as I would spend my time slipping and filtering through the books, getting lost in the stories these pages so generously contain.
