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i am a re-reader and a re-watcher and re-listener. i return to the things that have caught me, again and again, to discover the nuances overlooked the first time, to change my angles. indulge myself with delicious phrases and pictures. silk and chocolate. i am a sybarite.

there is always something new to find, something to better understand.

(the first book that made me really cry, for hours, was from here to eternity. prewitt can’t be dead! he can’t! and i went back and read the taps scene until i knew it by heart. gorging myself on the glorious misery of it.)

if a story is good enough, if i fall in love with the characters and the setting and the twist and turn of intrigues, then i always stop before it’s over, rewind, and start again from the beginning.

(a few i’ve left unfinished, indefinitely. some stories should just go on forever – into dreams and endless possibility.)

as long as i don’t know how it ends, it’s still the first time. still the first excitement. still the first hunger to find out what happens next.