As far as I can remember I have been reading since age 7. When I say reading I don't mean to say I learnt to read or read well or very well. I was reading books related to Indian History, Anthropology and Sociology to help my mother as she had caught conjuctivities just before her BA exams. Somehow, it stuck with me. Reading. For some reason writing caught up with me a little slow. I would start writing a diary at age 13.The diary was only an excuse. I had started expressing my views and thoughts about various things. I made a wishlist of what I would write when I grew up. When I look back I am not sure where I inherited that kind of maturity at such an age (it seemed to taper as I got older). Anyway keeping a diary continued for the next 10 years. During this time I came across as a typical adoloscent/teenager/youngster confused and depressed with the world around her. I am not sure if I was maniacal or bipolar (Ok. It was not THAT scary). I would write stuff that only Freud would...
Many parallel universes built together by a few percent of the mind. A contradicting power house that brings down roofs of unresiding thoughts.