I hate finishing a good book. You know, the kind of book where you get completely caught up in the story and completely lose track of time. The world around you vanishes completely and your eyes can't pass over the words quickly enough. And then, suddenly, it all comes to an end. You turn the page to discover that there is
no next page and close the book. The world around you comes back into focus with all it's comparatively dull and unexciting colors and sounds, sucking away the thrill that the book created.
And then I sit in front of my many bookshelves and none of the books look at all interesting. So I just sit, depressed, and wish my last book hadn't ended.