Books

Sometimes reading a book with me is like dealing with a child. It goes something like this:

Me: do you want to read a book?
July: yeah
Me: what do you want to read? 
July: I don’t know
Me: ok how about this sci fi… (we start reading together)
July: no this book sucks
Me: ok fine, how about this one on philosophy? That’ll put you to sleep
July: no this book sucks too - philosophy sucks 
Me: what? You love philosophy you couldn’t shut up about philosophy just the other day
July:  I don’t want to read it
Me: ok fine *picks up a pamphlet from 3 years ago on a trip we went* ok how about this tourist guide from 3 years ago about Malta
July: ohhhh yeah this is great! I’m going to read about the history of Malta now and I’m going to learn everything about Malta even though you have all these other books you want me to read rn eff you
Me: classic *so confused*

creating and destroying; built flying cars & autonomous vehicles, now building roc.camera, writings: july.rocks

I feel this push and pull more often than I'd like to admit. Rarely are such choices a straight line, but rather a constant negotiation between various interests competing for my attention. 
I've come to accept that child never leaves us, and instances like this are ways for them to remind us of their internal presence.

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seemore.tv/free/fc/adam-

I honestly am so happy the child is still there!