In all my stupid clumsy years I've broken a few things but must say, a fractured rib is really quite horrifying. If only because the pain just lingers there...
Anyways, it's too easy to fall into a trap of self pity (why me why me). I'm trying not to do that, but it certainly is difficult. At least I can just sit around and read. I started reading Hearts in Atlantis a looong time ago but kept getting sidetracked, oops I might as well finish it now. My New Year's Resolution for the last year was to (at least try) read everything published by Stephen King, I most certainly did not manage to. I gave up on Tommy Knockers after realizing why I stopped in the first place, and I can't really say anything other than it's terrible. There are rather frightening and insightful descriptions of alcoholic addiction but in all I think the actual story just ruins the whole thing, what could of been a great allegory. Maybe I need to give it another chance? I think I'll try AGAIN. I couldn't stand the Great Gatsby at first but that was because of my ignorance, after all.
I didn't finish reading "It" either, somebody decided to borrow my copy and it disappeared forever. The first two chapters of that one made me cry despite myself. Barely even the beginning, the book is huge.
And some other things blah blah blah
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