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First off, some cute doggo pics. Such a cute lil boi. Ive Just recently realized that I have 35 Brando Sando books. Got me thinking. Reading is kind of weird. Fictional books, at least. In its essence, we’re staring at dead trees for hours on end, with squid blood splattered on them in specific patterns. These patterns describe nonsensical worlds in which we Invest ourselves, and devote hours of our time towards discussing. One of my friends criticizes me heavily for spending a bunch of money on Sanderson collecting, saying its impractical. But in reality, all fiction is impractical. It doesn’t teach you anything that you couldn’t learn more efficiently from another source, they don’t affect the real world in any time. In a practical sense, reading novels is a complete waste of time and we should toss our books in the fire. HOWEVER. Humans are not purely practical creatures. We like art. We like reading novels. We like it when things look nice (and hence leatherbounds exist). Am I completely rambling? Am I tired and trying to think deep thoughts and failing horribly? Who knows. Point is, do what you find fun, even if someone else tells you that practically speaking, there are better things for you to be doing. “Will, how bout instead of reading, you do your homework.” “Will, put your book down and unload the dishwasher.” “Will, you spend too much time reading.” WELL THEY’RE WRONG! READING IS GREAT! Aiight, I’m heading to bed. Hope ya’ll have a delightful day/day tomorrow, and may your dreams be full of milk. Yummy milk. Maybe some cookies too.