try to begin a new chapter with an indestructible, permanent bookmark wedged between the final pages of the last. true proof that reading ahead before fully completing what you’ve covered is a big no-no.

a paragraph can become so revolting, when read through a thousand times, under distraction and not retained. words become vague symbols, and eventually the semantics fall away to leave a mere image. black, largely linear, in neat long rows, formulaic, on yellowing paper. familiar, but analog; of no meaning yet. image blurs and now is gray.

the subject matter hates me, of this i’m sure. it offers itself still, because it has to, it’s there after all, but i can tell it’s become weary and reluctant. it wants to be left behind. it wants me to turn the goddamn page. it’s never changed and i’ve always known this but i’m fixated on the older story. i fear i won’t like the parts that follow or the new characters introduced.