I'm taking choke back to the library tomorrow. I don't won't to read it. Perhaps another time. There are other things I should be and have been reading. and that seems to be what I need. I feel like reading one of those good, bad books. The one's that are completely dumb, trivial, typical... (however you want to describe it), but for what ever reason, at the time it seems like the perfect book.
When I was in the hospital with the cancer some years back, I received a large quantity of books from friends and family. All the books I thought I wanted to read, however, became so damn annoying in that sterile environment. My sister sent me some john grisham book about christmas. It was short and didn't seem to be about his typical subjects, so I said, "why not". That was perfect... sentimental shit, that somehow just hit the spot.
What about you? Ever find yourself with your nose buried in shit, and taking in the circumsancial sweetness, crying out, "Yes! Thank you!"?
3 comments:
I spent a good month earlier this year reading comic books.
Read a lot of John Maxwell last year. Self help/leadership/organizing books.
no. i am too serious for such things.
Post a Comment