Books! Books!

I've got a pile of books on my bedside table growing dust rabbits. I've been getting too many books from Ran and the buddha guy*, and I've no time to read any of them.

Ran told me where he gets his books and all the dirty book dealing the Buddha guy does. I've always wondered how he gets half-priced, brand-new bestsellers. Now I know. The Buddha guy has a metro-wide puslit network of security guards, bookstore employees, and janitors who, every now and then, grabs a book from the bookstore inventory. Fun.

Let me just enumerate the books gathering dust:

Terry Pratchetts. This is the only author that can make me forget everything. His books are a word-trip escape. I'm saving his books for special occassions.

Kurt Vonneguts. I only bought this guy because the blurb from Heller and Irving said he was good. And if Heller and Irving says he's good, he must be good. I've got more than half of his books. I've only read one so far. I'll defer the rest to the end of the "read me" list.

Parman by David Hontiveros. Another book bought because of a blurb, this time from Gerry Alanguilan. I put it down after the fight scene in Katipunan Ave. Too cheesy for me.

The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad. I only bought this book because some guy from a book said that Conrad was his favorite childhood author. I put it down after reading 2 pages. I won't pick it up again until I remember which character from which book teld me to buy it in the first place. I can't remember and it's driving me mad.

Steel Longganisa by Bob Ong. I put it down after he repeated the Ped Xing joke for the nth time. Shameless.

Pugad Baboy XVIII. Ryan asked me to buy it for him. I'll have to read it before I send it to Bacolod.

Psyche & Symbol and The Travistock Lectures by C. G. Jung. I just had to buy this. It was obscenely cheap at 90 pesos. Jung is my favorite psychoanalyst. I'll read it when I'm feeling bored and intellectual.

Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis. The only reason I bought this is because Ran said it was rare and they don't print it anymore. This will probably stay in the pile for a long time.

The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner. This is the last time I'll get book recommends from Oprah.

Notes From the Underground by Dostoyevsky. Roxy said I should read this. And Kerouac** mentioned it in his book.

Sybil. I should read it, but there are so many books out there that are better reads.

Dharma Burns by Jack Kerouac. I should finish this by the end of summer. The owner's heading off to Estats Unis and when she does, goodbye Jack.

H. P. Lovecrafts. Not now. I'll read these next year.

God Knows by Joseph Heller. I actually want to read this book again. I got interrupted during the sem break and I keep on forgetting to pick this one up.

Baudolino by Umberto Eco. This guy is the hardest read I've yet encountered. I was already three-fourths finished when I dropped this book last August. Now, I have to read it again. And it's so draining to read Umberto Eco. This is a book made for summer, when there isn't a care in the world.

Dark Materials by Phillip Pullman. Ma'am Khay recommended this. After her previous recommend, Ender's Game, I'll read anything she tells me to read.

Nine Stories by J. D. Salinger. After this book, there'll be no more new Salingers to read. I'm saving this for a special occassion.

There's more. I just can't remember them all. And they're all there gathering dust, pages getting more brittle, paper yellowing. Books are only paper until you read them.

I've got a huge pile of paper on my bedside table.

* He's fat and bald and smiles a lot. And I don't know his name.
** I just finished Kerouac's On The Road. He's one of my favorites now.