last night when i got in, a little drunk, i for some reason felt compelled to dig through my shelves to find a literary masterpiece to cozy up with

the pearl

is all i could find


you know, it's all about weights and balances people. hmmmm.... bring a boy home? or read the pearl? tough call.

kino won out.

i think i've reached a new low. for 2 reasons:

1-i came home and in my drunkenness craved, not sex or food, but literature

2- the best i could do was the pearl.

not that it isn't a good book.

but literally i brought none of my intellectual reading with me.

now that i think about it, had i had an abundance of literary masterpieces on the shelves, i probably still would have selected the pearl because it doesn't look so daunting.

90 pages.

a simple mexican folk tale laden with love, evil, and lessons in human nature.



so, as i

passed
out

i had tiny visions of books and essays and literary genius dancing in my head.

i woke up at 1pm. ate some really gross oatmeal.

today's mission:

restock the shelves. time for a tune up. time to revisit all of the works that i had forgotten, cast aside for cliff's version, or just not understood in highschool and college. time to step away from my lover, my tele.

to borders.


the bronte sisters, george orwell, voltaire, vintage nabakov, kafka, kerouac, thomas hardy

today, i start to re-congeal and re-solidify the mush that has become my brain.