It’s frustrating. When I find the book I want I crack it open like to devour it demanding tell me all your everything right now the juicy bits the stuff the meat the what I’m here for. And once I’ve read that part ravenous and quick so I’m dizzy, I’m done and the rest is a let down a slough a mindless turning of pages to say I’ve read the whole thing because that is what you are supposed to do. An unsatisfying process, most of it anyways. I want to sit down, open up, fall in, slowly, with restraint, reading into and between, absorbing. But that is not how my mind works. It’s not a ballad, it’s a wrecking ball.