This is looking to be an interesting end of the year for me, some good, some bad, all interesting.

It's such a sad thing about human nature - say you absolutely loathed a book and everyone wants to know what it was.

Mention a book you loved, recommend it for readers, and the world is a chorus of crickets.

Y'all just want to hate on stuff

just to get out ahead:
respectfully, just because something gives you the ick, doesn't mean it should be banned. Art *IS* supposed to make us uncomfortable.

I'm not entirely sure what my goal is for being here but here I am regardless. That's just life, I guess.

The passage of time is the breakage of time, time that we can never return to.