To read or not to read

Sometimes I’ll start reading a book and I’ll have to stop after a while. Not because it’s badly written, or the story’s not working or anything. Because of the emotions. Because I feel them too much at this moment in my life. Like I began reading Fiona Zedde’s Broken in Soft Places (isn’t that the most beautiful title though) and Virginie Despentes’ Vernon Subutex a while ago and I can’t. I just can’t. Neither is a touchy-feely book, but they’re both depressing as hell right now.

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