The Story of How I, Who Was Supposed to Be a Reader, Became Addicted to Writing on Note

The night was a time for reading books.

The day was over, and it was a time when no one would disturb me anymore.
I would brew some coffee, pick a book from my pile of unread ones, and turn the pages.

That feeling of being able to think, 'Ah, tonight is a good night, too.'

It was fine if the number of unread books increased a little.
In fact, I didn't even dislike that; it felt like a stock of hope that I would 'read them someday.'

──At the very least, that was the kind of person I was back then.

I wonder when that changed.

I started Note thinking, 'Maybe I'll try writing one article.'
At first, it was just a lighthearted whim.
I didn't think it would last, nor did I think anything would change.

And yet.

Before I knew it, I found myself thinking about it in random moments during the day.

'This could be material for an article.'

Even on the train or in between work,
even fragments of trivial conversations start turning into headlines in my head.

No, no, wait a minute, I think.
Was I ever that kind of person?

And the definitive change comes at night.

'I'm going to read tonight.'

I decide that and open a book.
I read a few pages. It feels good. It's interesting. I'm focused.

……And yet.

Before I realize it, this is what's happening.

'What would happen if I wrote about this theme in my own way?'

'I'll structure it like this, and do the introduction like that...'

'Would a slightly more cynical title be better?'

—No, read.

Now is the time to read.

Even while telling myself that,

my brain has already activated 'writing mode'.

I'm supposed to be reading, but an editorial meeting has already started in my head.

And a few minutes later.

The book is closed, and before I know it, I'm typing on the keyboard.

…No, where did that 'I'm going to read today' from a moment ago go?

At this point, a question arises.

Is this a hobby? Or is it just a habit? Or perhaps, a mild addiction?

A person who was supposed to love reading has started to see reading as 'gathering material'.

Instead of 'this is a nice expression,' I'm thinking, 'how should I cook this?'

The time that was supposed to be purely enjoyable has, somewhere along the way, been replaced by 'output-oriented' thinking.

…Isn't that a little scary?

No, or rather than scary, to be precise, I'm 'a little taken aback by myself'.

But if asked if I want to stop, that's not really the case either.

If anything, it's fun.

The feeling of sentences taking shape, or the sensation of vague things inside me being put into words—that is, in its own way, quite pleasant.

Perhaps this is,

a different kind of pleasure from the 'joy of reading'.

The quiet satisfaction of input, and
the slight excitement of output.

It's not that one is better than the other,
it's just that right now, I'm leaning toward the latter.

……And, here is something that has been bothering me a little.

Is there anyone else like this?

People who think, "Yeah, I realized I'm like that too."
The moment you get hooked on something,
that feeling where the hobbies you once cherished are quietly pushed aside.

And this is a bit tricky.

You could stop if you wanted to,
but there's no real reason to stop,
and in fact, since it's "more fun right now," you just keep going.

Then, by the time you notice,
the distance from your original hobby has somehow grown.

Like stopping watching videos when you get hooked on games,
or your late-night slacking time disappearing when you start working out,
or not being able to go back to being a "consumer" once you start creating.

──Wait, am I unable to go back?

I think that for just a split second,
but that moment is usually overwritten by the next topic.

This probably isn't a rare story.

Especially with creative things like "writing" or "making,"
once the switch is flipped, the way you see the world changes.

Things you were just enjoying
suddenly start looking like "material" or "content."

That might be efficient,
but there's also a slight feeling that you can't fully go back
to when you were just purely enjoying them.

……No, that's not a bad thing in itself,
and I'm not exactly regretting it.
But I feel like everyone has moments
where they realize, "Oh, I've changed a bit."

It's just that there are moments when I remember,
"I was enjoying myself quite defenselessly back then."

I think this is probably what it is.

When you get hooked on something,
the "position" of the things you used to love changes.

They haven't disappeared,
but their priority quietly shifts.

It's not that I've come to hate reading.
It's just that the way I engage with it has changed.

From time spent reading to read,
to time spent reading to write.

Whether you see that as a 'degradation' or an 'evolution',
honestly, I'm not sure.

──But,

If I dare to put it in a cool way──
Maybe it's a 'deepening'?

The only thing I can say is,

even though the way I spend my nights has changed,
I still love the night just as much as I always have.

Nights spent opening a book,
and nights spent tapping away at the keyboard,
both are not bad in their own way.

……That said.

The feeling that my pile of unread books
looks a little lonelier than before,

────I don't think that's just my imagination.

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