"I AM A WRITER, WRITER OF FICTIONS. I AM THE HEART THAT YOU CALL HOME."

There is nothing that I like more than a bookcase beautifully coordinated by color. Although I've had to fight for this right after every move, I've managed to win Matt over by organizing our countless hardcovers and paperbacks in shades of turquoises and lavenders until he can't deny that it looks spectacular. This is a painstaking process of matching and grouping each book into its appropriate color group. At the very end, it's truly rewarding to stand back and take it all in. The varying shades of intensity breathe new life into the books, and all the sudden you take note again of all the books you devoured (voluntarily or forcefully) during your college years and the ones you have yet to read. The only color that never fails to look lonely is the long section of plain, white paperback spines that stare back at you blankly.

Collecting books is a habit that has been instilled in me from birth, thanks to my bookworm mother who never misses an opportunity to read just about anything. From serial killers to post-war literature, my mother has read more books than most scholars I know and its partly her fault that I am not unable to pass a bookshelf or bookstore by without at least taking a second glance. It's extremely difficult for me to give up books simply to gain more storage space, especially since I know they are so irreplaceable. I've been frequenting my favorite hole-in-the-wall thrift store in my home town for a few years now and just about always walk out with at least 3-8 books. For a whopping dollar you can buy 8 paperbacks, a bargain that one would have to be a fool to pass up. Now that my Ikea Expedit bookcase is full, it looks like I'll have to find either A) another bookcase or B) downsize. I'll let you guess which of the two it'll come down to.