Strolling around the garden, he felt the stingy jealousy in
him. Why, he’s wondering. Why am I jealous of him being famous within the
society circle? As a matter of fact, I don’t actually care about being the most
popular of all among friends. Am I being jealous all this while? I don’t know
and I’m not sure. I’m probably just feeling not comfortable of him having the
thing I don’t want to have.
People
used to ask me a question: what makes me a voracious reader? And my response
always be: nothing, for I was born a reader, not genetically, but innately.
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