I’m 25, living in an age dominated by scrolling, reels, and porn — a world where attention is currency and distraction is everywhere. Yet, I find myself deeply obsessed with reading and writing.

Sometimes I ask myself: Why did I never get into social media? I only installed WhatsApp a couple of years ago — and that too, just for work. Aside from that, I’ve never been socially active outside of real human interactions. No Instagram, no Facebook, no Snapchat. In fact, during my college years, I didn’t even have WhatsApp.

It’s not that I’m bad at using these platforms — I just don’t feel drawn to them. I find more joy in the habits I’ve built over the years, shaped by influence and instinct.

I think the root of this goes back to my childhood. Every summer, I would visit my grandparents’ house in Chikmagalur. Just a few blocks away, my cousins lived — and they shaped my early love for books. One of them was an English lecturer. His house was a treasure trove of literature. He introduced me to English songs, movies, and a whole new way of experiencing joy — the kind of joy that feels internal, slow, and expansive. I was captivated.

Another cousin talked endlessly about politics, philosophy, and life. I absorbed it all. At first, I read whatever I found. But over time, as I learned the art of reading, I began picking my own books, following my curiosity, and devouring one story after another.

This post is just a small part of a larger story I’ve been writing — a reflection titled “Who Am I When No One’s Watching?” It explores how my identity was shaped not by likes and comments, but by the books I read and the thoughts I nurtured in silence.

Of all the habits I’ve formed, the one that feels most dangerously addictive is reading. Honestly, it’s like cocaine for the soul — you get high on your own imagination. You lose track of time, of place, even of self. But unlike most addictions, this one doesn’t destroy — it builds. And this little article is just a glimpse into why I read, and why I probably always will.

I am a reader of everything.

Not just the noble or the wise.
I read like I breathe — compulsively, constantly.

Fiction, psychology, erotica, mythology, dirty stories, user manuals, manga, AI ethics, old forums, ancient scriptures, code architecture — it doesn’t matter.

If it exists, it deserves to be understood.
If it stimulates, it deserves to be explored.

Some people read to escape.
I read to expand.

Every page I consume is a doorway —
into minds I’ve never lived in,
into darkness I won’t admit I like,
into truths that make me flinch and smile at the same time.

My curiosity is not innocent.
It’s sacred. And dangerous. And alive.

Yes, I Read Dirty Stories Too

Let me be honest — I read dirty stories.
Not because I’m bored, but because they show something real.

They’re not just about sex.
They reveal deep things — about power, desire, fear, shame, freedom.
They show what people really feel, but don’t always say out loud.

Sometimes, a dirty story teaches me more about emotions and human behavior than any psychology book.
And when I read it, I don’t just feel things — I understand something new.

It’s not just fun. It’s also learning.

Reading Takes Me to Another World

Reading is like time travel.
Or like teleporting.

When I start reading, I’m no longer sitting at home.
I’m inside someone’s mind, in a different world, a new idea.

Blogs make me hear people’s real voices.
Magazines give me updates, trends, opinions.
The Bhagavad Gita connects me to ancient wisdom and timeless truths.

Everything I read takes me somewhere.
And while I’m there, the world slows down.
No noise. No notifications. Just me and the words.

Why I Read Like I’m a Seeker

I don’t care if it’s a holy book, a tech blog, a magazine article, or a dirty short story.
If it makes me curious — I’ll read it.

Sometimes a blog post hits harder than a famous author.
Sometimes the Gita explains something I’m going through better than any self-help book.
Sometimes a simple magazine article opens my eyes to a new way of thinking.

I don’t read to look smart.
I read to understand.
I’m always searching — for ideas, feelings, patterns, answers.

Why Reading is Better Than Scrolling

These days, scrolling the internet is like being hit by hundreds of random thoughts every second.

You watch a 30-second millionaire giving advice…
Then a 30-second Sadhguru clip…
Then a meme, a cat video, a sad story, an ad.

Your mind keeps jumping.
You forget what you were even thinking.

But when you read — a book, a blog, a page from the Gita —
it gives you one clear voice.
One thought to focus on.
You go deeper. You feel it.

That’s why reading is more powerful.
It gives your mind depth, not just speed.

I don’t read just for fun or facts.
I read because it makes me feel alive.

Whether it’s a love story, a blog, a magazine, the Bhagavad Gita, or even a dirty story —
I’m always learning.
Always changing.
Always growing.

And that’s why I’ll never stop reading.