Yesterday was not floating.
Yesterday was all suffocating. Suffocating with the desire to be only one place, and do only one thing, all day & all night. Suffocating with the knowledge that doing it would only make it more painful.
The second book is not so happy.
The sun is out today and I haven't read anymore. I'm thinking finishing by Monday is pretty much impossible. It's been over 24 hours and the insanity hasn't lessened any. When I woke up this morning I discovered I'd ripped skin off of, not one, but six of my fingers at some point during the night. A sure sign that I was fighting to keep something in. The sleep deprivation induced nausea is perpetuating itself as well. I remember being 15 or 16 and feeling this way every single day. It was rather unpleasant.
Another strange memory that popped up was from college. Both my parents, my boyfriend, his mother, and his sister were crazy obsessed with Harry Potter. I was staying away b/c I'd already entered my "anime & manga only" phase, & my brother at 16 or so was waaaayyyy too cool for that kind of thing. One winter, when I was visiting Gainesville, I went to say goodnight to him in his room. It seemed perfectly normal. Tim was always in his room. Always. As I walked in the door he jumped up from his bed & shoved something under his pillow. No, it wasn't porn. I stared at him incredulously,
"Are you reading Harry Potter?!?" I asked
"Shhh!" His eyes were wild. "Don't tell Mom & Dad!" He was pleading.
I shrugged, "I won't, but.......why?"
"Katy, you don't understand," he sat down & pulled the book back out. "I hate it, but I can't stop reading! They're the literary equivalent of nicotine!"
I didn't crack for another year or so, but he was right. And if HP is nicotine, Twilight is more like heroin.
Withdrawal is not pretty.
