I haven't read anything in ages. A couple of years ago my psychiatrist recommended I read Van Gogh: The Life. I bought it and started it, but never finished it. I'd like to get back into it, but I always talk myself into just sitting and doing nothing.

I usually go for fiction, though. I do have a small stack of books that I'd accumulated but never started. I suppose there's no time like the present to pick one up.

Talking of books reminds me of a past experience I haven't really come to peace with; some years ago one of my cousins just up and gave away like 40 books that I'd collected over a six or seven year period. I was so livid! But, I didn't say anything; I just breathed the anger out. It was my fault; I had them stored at his mother's house...in her attic. He wanted to make space, but I was broke and lived in an entirely different state and had no way of being able to get to my aunt's... I still get upset about that whenever I'm reminded of it. I mean, those books were very important to me! I even had an entire author's collection!

"Woosah."