One oddity I've noticed about myself is that I'm not a HUGE fan of reading; I see it as more of an obligatory exercise than a pastime. There are literally hundreds of books strewn about my room I've started but have yet to finish.

I'm not sure what it is, but I've noticed that I find more comfort in being surrounded by an infinite array of knowledge and imagination and mystery and horror and love and adventure and science fiction and science and all the genre's a mind can conceive, and being further blanketed by the mystery of never knowing the full picture of those "pictures", being left to wonder for myself...over having experienced them to their fullest limits.

Maybe one day I'll finish all those books, it is however unlikely. But just knowing they're there is enough for now.