I don’t know how many of you scroll down far enough to see my current reads. I haven’t done this sort of thing in a long time (not scroll down far enough to see my current reads.) Wow. I’m having some serious (both written and real life) Aspie, literal issues.
No, I’m talking about my ADD, here. Usually it’s with one book. If the material is relatively easy, I may only make it through a limited number of pages. Concentration still not so improved with the Concerta, but better. However, I can’t devour books like I used to. Quel, quel, quel drag.
Or, if the book is still relatively easy and I’m really into it, I may tend to bounce all over to see what comes next, skipping hither and yon, even if I don’t like to do that. I have to go through the book from beginning to end! I’d never understand any of it if I didn’t!
Now? Again, not in a long time. I’m reading three at once! I’m finding it pretty funny, too.
I usually read when I’ve popped my pills and flop into bed. Try and relax a bit and help me get to sleep. Since I’ve got three on the go, I’m now I finding I stare for a fair while, quite indecisive about which one I should pick up. Last night, I chose the closest within reach!
I wrote in this post that I was now reading three, plus I had bought three new Graphic Novels! I’m trying very hard not to touch those.
So, if you don’t know what I end up fighting with every night, here you go:
“The Boomer Bible” by R.F. Laird
“Speaking of Sadness” by David A. Karp
“Wuthering Heights” by Emily Bronte
I’m not sure if we could do any sort of “dissection” based upon my choices. Maybe only this. Number one: Humour. Number two: Mental Health. Number three: Classics. That’s as far as I think you could go.
My next thought is this, ultimately. Number one: Humour (being the overall–except, perhaps “pseudo-history?”) Number two: Depression. Number three: Depression. Indeed. The latter two aren’t really so funny at all, are they?
Although, some of the peoples’ quotes of their experiences with Depression are kind of funny. One guy said that if there was a million dollars across the room, with Depression, you’d never be able to get it. Depression’s so bad, you just can’t get out of bed, so forget that nice, cool million. Well, I think back on some of my worst episodes of Depression, and sure as shit, I’d get out of bed for that amount of money! Probably even less!
So, what can you say about that? Sure, Depression’s awful. It is debilitating. However, I would still take money if I became depressed. Am I a “Depression Gold Digger?” No. I don’t think so. I’ve yet to see my Pot of Gold or any other financial reward when I still get depressed. I suppose I can keep hoping, but I’d rather avoid Depression altogether and buy lottery tickets instead.
But back to humour in Wuthering Heights. No, not so much. Unless you’re quite a sadistic creature and you really get off on storybook character’s pain and misery.
It’s one of my favourite books of all time. I lost my copy way back so I had to go and pick up another one. It’s been on my mind so much lately. Like a “Literary Earworm!” And before you ask, I’m not a sadistic creature who’s getting off on all the pain and misery of it.