Hi, my name is Kyle and I have a problem... I have book-paralysis.
Book-paralysis stinks.
It's a natural response to being smothered by your own inflated literary ambitions. It means I have accrued a mountain of unread books and now my desire to read is being suffocated by a torrential downpour of options. See, I want to read more... I want to be "that guy" who reads his weight in poignant and well-reviewed books every month. However... my passion for books seriously overpowers my passion for reading them.
My machine starts to sputter when what began with a new book-interest ends a couple weeks and a few pages later with a disenchanted pit in my stomach that says, "I really thought this book would be the one." In short order the book makes its way back to the snowy peaks of my book-mountain and I start shopping around for another book... or two... or ten... Really it's just a bad love story. I have commitment issues.
Yesterday I was in a bookstore drooling over books I loved the idea of reading but knew I would probably never read... and it broke my heart. At this rate in fifteen years I'll have a Smithsonian-sized library and a pea-sized brain... So there I decided I've got to do something to overcome this crippling problem. Because, if I think about it, I realize that my book-mountain is teaming with untapped literary gold-veins, ideological treasures, theological and philosophical masterpieces, priceless relics of brilliance.
So today I'm resolving not to buy another book until I dismantle my own heaping book-mess. Mark it down, today the demolition commences. Bring it on, book mountain... ya, I'm talkin' ta you.
