Damn you Harry Potter, damn you to hell.

So I've been reading the Harry Potter. And I can't stop. It's intoxicating. I want to stop. But they got a hold on me, man. It's all so, so pleasant and whimsical. It's not even particularly good writing, the metaphores are weak and repetative (Harry feels somthing in his stomach every five pages). And whole scenes are played out in excruciating detail that needn't take up more than a page. But it doesn't matter, because I want more. The new book doesn't come out until July (The Half Blood Prince, I believe it is entitled) and I am anxious for it--I need it now. Like a stone cold junky looking for my next sick fix of that sweet, sweet H. I need the junk, man...I just need it. Oh, Ron Weasley, when will you see that Hermione is perfect for you? Harry, why can't you understand that Dumbledore just wants to protect you from Lord Voldemort? Jesus, I'm gonna lock myself in my room Trainspotting style. I wonder what Potter-withdraw is like? A sweaty nightmare, I'll wager.