(no subject)
Something has happened to me.
In between Monday (when my life was turned upside down) and today, I have been completely consumed with the desire to do nothing but READ.
I will wholeheartedly admit to having a huge bookcase filled to the top with books, but half of them sit there untouched, the victim of my tendencies to do the following: *walk into Goodwill/bookstore/yard sale/etc.* "OH GOD THIS SALE IS SO CHEAP I ABSOLUTELY MUST BUY THIS BOOK oh shit I guess I'll have to read it later when I have time" *go home, shelve book, forget about it for months*
Suddenly I'm devouring books. I'm reading like two or three a day. There's countless half-started ones in my car, on my nightstand, in my purse, in my POCKETS when I wear certain jeans...and I can't get enough; I keep buying MORE. I'm suddenly going to bookstores I haven't frequented in months, stopping at Goodwill every day before work. O_o I don't know why this need to read has come over me. I mean, I've always been a huge lover of books. Always. I've been reading since I was two, and according to accounts from most of my relatives, I taught myself (long story, comment if you want to hear it). But this...this ravenous LUST for knowledge...this is one hell of a long-forgotten sensation.
I wish I knew where this came from.
I would love to ponder this more, honestly...but there's a dog-eared copy of "The Jungle" by Upton Sinclair next to my iced tea, lying open, STARING at me. I believe it requires attention. Excuse me.
In between Monday (when my life was turned upside down) and today, I have been completely consumed with the desire to do nothing but READ.
I will wholeheartedly admit to having a huge bookcase filled to the top with books, but half of them sit there untouched, the victim of my tendencies to do the following: *walk into Goodwill/bookstore/yard sale/etc.* "OH GOD THIS SALE IS SO CHEAP I ABSOLUTELY MUST BUY THIS BOOK oh shit I guess I'll have to read it later when I have time" *go home, shelve book, forget about it for months*
Suddenly I'm devouring books. I'm reading like two or three a day. There's countless half-started ones in my car, on my nightstand, in my purse, in my POCKETS when I wear certain jeans...and I can't get enough; I keep buying MORE. I'm suddenly going to bookstores I haven't frequented in months, stopping at Goodwill every day before work. O_o I don't know why this need to read has come over me. I mean, I've always been a huge lover of books. Always. I've been reading since I was two, and according to accounts from most of my relatives, I taught myself (long story, comment if you want to hear it). But this...this ravenous LUST for knowledge...this is one hell of a long-forgotten sensation.
I wish I knew where this came from.
I would love to ponder this more, honestly...but there's a dog-eared copy of "The Jungle" by Upton Sinclair next to my iced tea, lying open, STARING at me. I believe it requires attention. Excuse me.