tjaden

One of the reasons I love buying used books, beyond that of cost, is the occasional discovery of the previous reader's notes, marks, comments, exclamations, and revelations... in many ways, this discovery breaks the "fourth wall," and your reading is halted while you contemplate the hand that scribbled "Remember this!" in the margin of a Kerouac... the mind that, for indiscernable reasons, underlined a passage of The Jungle. You think to yourself, 'Was this once a required reading in a course? Or did the person hear about this book from their new lover?' Suddenly, an infinite number of paths--the ones that we were so accustomed to as children--open up before us as we realize the possibility of imagination... and the book fades away into oblivion as you contemplate the immensity of the universe.

Or... maybe not.



(oh, and curried eggs are really good for breakfast... in case you were wondering.)