a commonplace journal
These are my first purchases in more than a month. Am I trying, finally, to fill the gaping reading-shaped hole in my already-listless life? Or am I just trying to fight how terribly, nauseatingly pathetic my inner life has been lately? Through Comic Book Day. And Tintin, for some reason. And, naturally, Batman. [Continue reading.]
Books read versus books acquired—the perennial imabalance. March was a craptastic month for reading, and for getting anything remotely related to soothing my inner self done. But. I did buy a lot of books. That is: I seem to have bought a lot of books. I don't remember. I woke up like this. [Continue reading.]
These are the books I bought this January, and all but two were from a series of Fully Booked sales. That’s thirty-five books bought in the first month of 2014—I bought more books than there are days in the year thus far. A few certainties: Having rearranged my shelves during the holidays, I’ve had absolutely no room in my shelves left for books since the holidays; there will be no eating right for the next two weeks; I am exploring the possibility of maiming someone just so I can have world enough and time for these books; I am so, so very happy; Batman definitely does not approve. But let me explain. [Continue reading.]
I’ve been—knock on wood—sailing calmer waters lately. Sure, my ever-lengthening list of gripes remains handy, but the clusterfucks are at a manageable, if not tolerable, level. I’m only able to articulate this now, actually—at the close of a day that’s oddly restful despite the terrible weather and the work that comes with it; at the close of a weekend that was fun and the happy kind of exhausting, give or take a few grumbles from my frail, mortal body. I’m in a good mood, if only because I’m not in a foul mood. Yeah, that’s cheery. Here’s another: The reading’s picking up, if only because the reading actually exists. [Continue reading.]
It’s been about a week since I turned twenty-four, and in all that time the Universe has seen fit to test if I’m up to this whole living-with-sanity-and-inner-chillness business. That is to say: Holy fuck, I had—have been having?—one of the worst weeks ever. And because we are who we are, I am consoling myself with books—with the fond remembrance of these little units of boundless pleasure, acquired as they were by money. Mmm. At least with my bookshelves, there is an approximation of rightness. So here are some new books. That is: Here are your new books, Sasha. [I guess I just needed reminding that, hey: Little joys are here and there; I just have to fucking write them down. And maybe remind myself, too, of the boundless cheer of days past, and these books bought in anticipation of a future of inner-chill perfect for actually settling down to read.] [Continue reading.]
First thing upon waking up, P. and I headed straight to one of our favorite Booksales, and after that we went to another Booksale; in the hours in between, he hoarded more knick-knacks and I drank my tea and smoked my cigarettes. (Do a riff on this, Sasha: How it’s the best thing to wake up one Sunday to the-man-you’re-mad-for-saying, “Let’s go buy books.” And later, a city or so away, the two of you mostly quiet in starkly lit stores—occasionally raising your head to find the other, to hold up a good find, to grin like the book-mad jackals that you two are.) [Continue reading.]
I seem to be behaving, thus far, this 2013, when it comes to amassing books. Fine, that’s still quite a number up there—and I have obviously rediscovered my fanaticism for good ol’ Steve—but they all came from the trusty, national secondhand bookstore that is Booksale. That is: The consolation is, my wallet didn’t burn as brightly. Because, you know, we really need less wallet-burning around these here parts. Yeah. Anyway, here’s a quick rundown of what I bought, and the respective feeble rationalizations for each purchase. [Continue reading.]
From John William’s Stoner, our hero: “Sometimes, immersed in his books, there would come to him the awareness of all that he did not know, of all that he had not read; and the serenity for which he labored was shattered as he realized the little time he had in life to read so much, [...]
National Bookstore is holding a summer sale until the 5th of May, which means I’ve still got a handful of days to grit and bear. Every day has been a test of character, more than the usual. I’ve been amassing books as it is. For the past week, I’ve gone to three branches, some repeatedly. [...]
Something tells me my conscience will simply not allow that I even think of acquiring more books. Huh. Too bad I am bigger and stronger than Jiminy Cricket. MmmmBooks. The books above, from my Aunts Anne and Bong. You crazy women, you enablers, you. I love you guys, ya know that? Someone at a Distance, [...]
