I draw pleasure from the attractiveness of note-taking, of multi-colored tabs thickening the spines of worn books. The intimate act of flipping through pages that only your fingers, at the moment, will know – even though the words you consume may have been seen by many. But I have come to face reality: when I read for myself, all annotation does is distract. It’s like listening to a particularly enticing playlist while doing calculus. How am I to focus when I’m engrossed by the lovely applications of synths? The clever manipulation of language pooled in the lyrics? How am I to grasp the author’s argument when I’m busy fumbling between blueredblackpenpencilhighlightertabpostitnote and tending to my aching hand?