I might be the only one here who feels this way, but I miss the good ol’ days when you read “Tiffany sucks real good,” or the every simple “For a good blow job, call Ray 555-0269″ on restroom stalls and/or walls. Scribbled in lipstick or a Sharpie. The first of these Internet scribblings happened …
Life is good
And I feel great
’cause mother said I was
A great mistake
Novocaine for the soul
You’d better give me something
To fill the hole
I’ve a problem. I’m a book addict. I have hundreds of books in my house, and I’ve only read about a fourth of them. And I still buy books, even though I have several unread tomes here. Today I purchased two books (The Elegant Universe and The Fabric of the Cosmos both by Brian Greene) – coupled with the Steve Martin book I purchased yesterday, the text book I purchased over the weekend, the BDSM erotica novel I purchased the same day, a novelization, and the book by Michio Kaku I purchased this morning because carpe diem, librum venator (NOTE: I don’t know Latin; I used Google translator for the second half of that phrase). I’m a book addict and my addiction is worsen when my emotional control has been compromised, which it has been compromised for over a year now. And I don’t see a solution to my problem because the only solutions that are available aren’t solutions, really. So I return to filling the void in my heart by filling up my bookshelves, which are overflowing as it is.
Another book caught my attention at Barnes & Noble this afternoon – I find myself unable to muster the urge to come home to nothing these days. A.C. Grayling has compiled (written?) a book he called The Good Book: A Humanist Bible. But because the Brian Greene books aren’t for leisure, I put off purchasing the book until a later date (or when I succumb to my itch).
I love the smell of new books. And I love the smell of old books. There’s something intoxicating about the scent of books that eases me into a sort of high that makes me forget my problems if only for a second. I just know that if something doesn’t turn around for me, I’ll be blowing my paychecks (minus the money I put aside for Shaun) on books until they bury me alive.