I can't even describe it. I don't even know where to start.
It just builds up. It builds up inside me until it feels like I'm going to explode. It builds up inside me like it's suffocating. It builds up inside me like it needs to escape.
But it's not bad. It's neither bad nor good.
It's a feeling of the book's magnificence. It's importance. It's excellence.
It's so good that I can't seem to contain whatever emotions in my mind, or in my body. It's so good that I feel like someone, something is obstructing the blood vessels to and from my heart.
There's something about it.
It's just so. good.
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