I suppose it is a symptom of my ADHD, but I just polished off Tropic of Cancer as I hit the half-way point of Catch-22 while simultaneously cracking Brothers Karamozov & Breakfast of Champions. Perhaps it is a function of transient moods...a morning inspiration of clarity turns to an evening yearning for the nebulous. I'd also like to think that I have an insatiable desire to inundate my brain w/ heaping chunks of literary goods. I've got all those non-literary years to atone for!


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