Well I spent the summer trying to get rid of hundreds of books. And then I bought more books. I no longer understand anything. I love books. I read constantly. It’s all I care about—mostly. At the same time—so many books are garbage. Have no idea why we are here. There is only nothing—no point to anything. Creating something to gain immortality—seems okay. A book. More garbage. Nothing in life inspires me to keep on keeping on—