I can recall the feeling I experienced when I was finally able to read .
A sensation of finally have found a place of rescue.
I do know my memories can go back in forward in time as i try to put bad and good in perspective, but bear with me...
A book or books became my only place of contentement.
I realise know with the ability to see beyond the past that in my teachers I found praise,acceptment, kindness..
The words spoke to me in ways better describe as "You do matter..", I found friendship in authors I could barely pronouce their names.
It was a lonely period.
These days I prefer to live alone by choice.
The name of my first book will not mean anything to you all, it is a portuguese one.
So,for that reason i wont write the title.
Lets just say it was the first on many...