For my Pre-AP American Lit class, we had to read the book The Great Gatsby. Of course, I don't read. Like.. I.. Don't read. So, I listened to the audio book three nights before we had to finish it. Keep in mind, we already had said literature for three weeks, heh. Henceforth, I hate reading. Of course, in class, we would talk about important sections of the book, so my teacher spoiled the story for me. I kinda read, well, listened, according to what we had already talking about in class. A few days ago, I was so bored, I listened to probably over sixty terribly boring pages of my audio book, purposely having not read the last chapter. APPARENTLY it was the most important of them all, because I went to class the next day and was told that half the lovers in the book are shot. So, today, I came home and listened to what my teacher had spoiled for me, and it depressed me 1,920 fold. This is just why I hate books. This book has depressed me. I have just dwelled in the sadness of this book for now two days. I don't even know what about it did this to me, but I'm just a lost soul to this book now. To start with, they automatically give you a morbid state of mind by being a book. Then, if the story you read is anything like The Great Gatsby, then you're going to end up never wanting your boyfriend to become rich, borrow some one's yellow car, and never go swimming ever again. Kinda like...... Me.
Hahaha, not exactly that drastic. But you get it. Well, I doubt you "get" anything about me.
These are now my two favorite pictures of all time. That are not mine. My goodness. Such a sad book.
And now....... I want this^^^ SO. BAD.
