Two of the books I've read in the past couple of days have mentioned Archduke Franz Ferdinand. His name, assassination, and the subsequent WWI are pretty much the only things I remember from History class in high school, except for a board game my friend and I made about concentration camps. (I know way too much about concentration camps for a person of such delicate sensibilities.) I feel like this is a meaningful coincidence, except I don't know what for. What could these books possibly be trying to tell me. (It's like that time many, many years ago, when all I heard about was Fresno, California. It seemed like everyone and their moms were talking about Fresno and I was intrigued. What's so great about Fresno? Aren't there other wonderful places in California? I don't like California anymore, anyway. I had a bad experience.)
Moving along. Whilst reading I discovered two more things: I enjoy novels with footnotes, and I am losing the ability to experience things. I start a book and find myself hurrying along so I can find out what happens at the end and be finished. When did this happen? Reading is one of my favourite things! I also noticed it when I went to the tulips, and when I waited in line for two hours to get into the Art Gallery for free. I can't just look at stuff. How do normal people do it? I don't know what my internal monologue is supposed to be while I am looking at stuff. If I can't interact with it, or explore it, or learn something from it, I don't know what to do with it. I find this troubling.
good thought. it is crazy how we race through something simply to have gone through the experience of it without actually experiencing it. thanks for the reminder. :)
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