Growing up as a kid, I was a bit quiet at the house. In contrast, I would do this and that in school, getting in trouble all the time for petty things just to do so. I loved the attention of being the class clown. My parents could never understand the abnormality of me being such an extrovert in school, where one is with strangers of a sort, all whilst sitting in my room whenever I'm home just doing sudoku puzzles or reading my Harry Potter books. Initially, my parents loved that I enjoyed Harry Potter, as I'm sure any reasonably logistic parents would. It's a difficult read, especially for that of an 8 year old boy. Ironically, as time went on and the second and third and fourth books came out over the years, I would dive more and more into the realm of Harry Potter and they would get more and more annoyed with the amount of time by which I spent in my room, in my own little Harry Potter world. As I'm sure a lot of the students experienced, Harry Potter became a part of my life. I had a group of friends in fifth grade that I would live day to day in the classroom as wizards and witches with. We all wore our own particular jackets every day, all of which corresponding to our houses of course. We all had our own Harry Potter pencils we used as wands (only during recess, of course). We even kept spellbooks that we would write in as we learned more spells.
Anyways, to the point of all this, Harry Potter affected both me and my social life as a child a great deal; both at home and in the real world of elementary school. I certainly related most with Harry in many ways (besides his bogus Gryffindor House). I am a spitting image of my parents, having the green eyes of my mother and the everything else of my father from my smile to my sporting skills. Harry and I were both kids growing up with too much notoriety from their last name. We both appreciate our friends more than anything else in the world. Due to all of these similarities, I would read Harry Potter with a perspective similar to that of being first-person, even though the story was never written in that fashion. From a psychological perspective, one could go to lengths of saying I was living another life whilst reading Harry Potter. I look back on it now and totally understand why I was so into the books. It was an escape from reality; an awake, lucid dream. I even managed to bring the reality to my school, implementing it into everyday life. Just realized this is twice too long. Done son.
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