Triptych
i. When the proverbial Abrahamic god shuts one door, he opens a floodgate: the Kindle will forestall your efforts to amass a library, but cultivate an expensive graphic novel habit, and you may as well have never bought the thing.
ii. It’s endearing when an item teetering on the verge of the archaic—in the case above, paper—makes an effort to remain in your life, but when you realise there are more inanimate objects than carbon-based life forms clamouring for your time, locate a comfortable corner in your sleeping quarters and proceed to weep freely and openly.
iii. I can only think of two reasons people ever need to think out loud: to work out a problem (“…is four, carry over the one, eight by three is…”) or to self-flagellate (“Why am I such a goddamn IDIOT!”). When else do we do this?
