Insanity:::Acquiring books, yet letting them sleep with dust

The Art of Essay for hundred bucks, having Barthelme, Achebe, Atwood, Walker, E. M Forster, McPhee, Lessing, V. S. Naipaul et al., in one. And the Bluest Eyes of Morrison ( I lost my Beloved even before i finished reading it, to my dismal) and also the fictional work Frida (got intrigued of this Mexican painter after reading the poem in Kabisdak, and online searches aren't just enough). And the week before i got Tobias Wolff's collection of short story, Cliff's No Telephone to Heaven.

the smell of unread books is hovering in my room. and it is just insane, having a lot of books, and the dedication to read them is not there.

Enough for now. Read everything first before buying some more. i become greedy; my loyalty to each book is slowly eaten by selfishness, perhaps i have to learn the lesson first.


Whatever will it be.