there's some great irony to proclaiming your hatred of writing, especially in a blog entry. But just like everything else in the pages that I hope one day will fill this, I think its something worth writing. The written word from my youth has always been the enemy. It was something that was assigned to me day in and day out. A book was a progress bar; an article a comprehension test. And while I don't think all of this wasn't necessary (hell, that's how I learned to read!), it also meant that I developed a true love for reading or writing like so many of the peers I had around me.
It took me until Freshman year to pick up a book. In my style, it was a long-winded and complely convuleted analysis of the Great Depression. It perplexed me, its sourcing was somewhat questionable, but overall I loved it and it was one of the books which helped me develop the modern understand of how I see the world today. From then on, I've picked up a good many books, and my relationship with books has taken a turn for a better