Goddamn books


I just somehow decided that today is the day I tidy my books. I put the ones for sale – over there, and others go back here, into the shelves, and since I know I have more to sell than to keep – maybe there’s even room in my shelves to host them all.

2hrs later I feel like I fked two people in a heap of starch. My skin is dry due to coat of dust that accumulated on me, and the floor. My back has this funny feeling in it of “not quite happy about what you did here, but alright”, for with books you have to lift their weight, which is usually greater than it might seem, AND keep a balance in their favor, which isn’t always in your back favor. But you ask, maybe at least I fit the books, and it’s now nice, pretty, tidy?

No. It is not. The still didn’t fit.


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