Eight balls, yellow submarines, and vomit

Some people occasionally get in the mood to read a book. I don't. I become obsessed. I have to read. And I have to read a lot. I can't be satisfied with a few pages, or maybe some magazine articles, or even a regular book. I need to devour information. Lots of information. I can't stop until I have gorged myself on literature. It generally follows three main steps.

During the first step, I feel like I can't read enough. Life becomes an annoyance, because I can't constantly read. Sleep is frustrating. Eating wastes time, unless I have a book with me. I only want to do things that will facilitate me reading more.

The second phase consists of me entering a trance-like state. I practically stop being aware of words, pages, and chapters. I simply absorb the material. It is like I am injecting information directly into my veins. Time and space cease to exist.

Eventually I snap out of the second phase, and realize all of the implications and logical extensions of all of that I have been reading. After that, I generally have to do something. Write, draw, create, destroy--it doesn't really matter. It is like my brain can't handle all of the new activity, so it has to spit some back out.

I am waffling between the first and second steps right now. I'm sure you will be able to figure out when I hit step 3.