letters to word to sentences to complete thoughts.

ive been reading again.
i get away and caught up in minor things. inconsequential little things. and i stop reading.
recently ive retaken this habit. so ive read many letters, words, phrases, thoughts.
love in the time of cholera is rapidly becoming one of my favorite books. i finished that weeks ago but the imprint it left on my mind has not withered away.
100yrs of solitude is my current read, with no label. dharma bums left me feeling like it was a novel trying through something to establish that nothing is nothing, a buddhism lite for the non spiritually inclined dealing more with drinking and sex than any form of actual lifestyle or call to arms.. and yet it inspired an entire movement in its day, perhaps i missed something as i read it among the coffeeshops and hookah bars. the portrait of dorian grey was an impulse buy that didnt leave me with much, it seemed inconsequential in its message, not very easy to read and delving one to many times into mindless dialogues that went nowhere and established nothing but a minor development of characters.
what have i missed in classic readings? i never see or comprehend the greatness of some works and yet clearly understand it in others. i dont think of flowery writing as being the standard for good writing, if there is no major impression left, then why is a book considered a classic? why is it so much better than all the rest?
i feel like i need a mentor at this point in my life, but that system of education died long before i was.

being very still in london at the moment.