“With pets, they don’t care, they always give you the same amount of affection. It’s nice. With people, you never know how much affection you’re going to get. Some weeks you a get a lot and then other weeks you sleep alone.”
Thanks, Guillaume Morissette, for all the anxiety. What a way to end a year.
In New Tab, a 26-year-old video game designer struggles to find meaning in relationships, work, and life in general. It’s a book about being unable to connect in an overly connected world–and I related too much to most of the protagonist Thomas’ thoughts and concerns to feel entirely comfortable with my own life right now.
I’m a fan of Morissette’s style and how he’d interrupt the narrative with lines of poetry. I spent almost as much time considering these lines as I did the paragraphs before them–“I wanted to deconstruct my regrets in a way that proved they were made from a million tiny disappointments.” I find this line oddly comforting, as if regrets’d be so much easier to manage in this form–little particles of dust that could be swept under the rug or flakes of snow that will melt in spring.
I recommend reading this book, but definitely not while you’re experiencing any turmoil or standing before a new frontier or undergoing a major change (so maybe that’s never for some?). I’m going to pour some vodka into a glass with tonic and try to forget these feelings, or dissolve them into smaller pieces. Happy new year.
Books read: 12