Rust.

It's been too long since I've blogged. It may take a few short posts to get back in the swing of things. I'll have start by describing what I see. I see a computer screen. That won't do- I see a bookshelf above me, filled with only books that I've actually read, all the way through. I have many bookshelves in my room, but the one above my desk is only allowed to hold books that I've read. This stipulation is meant to encourage me to read more, so that when I finish a book, I can place it on this shelf, display it for all to see. I feel like a cheater- or a fraud- when I display books that I haven't actually read. They say you should judge someone by the books on their shelves. I agree. But not when they haven't actually read them. Sometimes I think I like everything about books except for actually having to read them. The finish of the cover, the way they smell, their weight, the sound the pages make when I flip through. I like having finished a book. I hate forwards, prologues, and introductions. This right here is only a beginning.