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What are you reading?

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thissu. found this song while looking for character playlist inspo and found out it's a fansong???

it already sounds v emotional + maybe a bit angsty by the look of the thumbnail so imma gonna give the original work a try!!! 

it's been awhile since i've finished a book tho so wish me luck plox 
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sometimes we ball, sometimes we fall.
just (begrudgingly) finished "How Does it Feel?" by Jeneane O'Riley. Worst book I've ever read.

Now starting "The Way of Shadows" by Brent Weeks.
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There's hope beyond this lone abyss.
I think a friend may have finally convinced me to read a famous YA animal book series that I never read in my youth but wanted to. I keep meaning to go through all of Discworld, Earthsea, etc. Etc. Or even actually read all of Tolkienโ€™s work, just to see what all the fuss is about, but Iโ€™m over here thinking...well, how much time could this series possibly take to read? Esp considering that my friend still loves it, gives more so much more motivation at least try, even if I may not like it, audience in mind and all

I do really want to read more books overall... where is the time...

Also, really considering starting the Frieren manga โ€” and I'm actively following Witch Hat Aetlier still. Dungeon Meshi is over ;0; 
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I took a little piece of your heart, don't hate me.
read y/n by esther yi a while ago. i normally don't like philosophical stuff but this was really good



The neckโ€™s language was of suppression, unlike that of his face, where the jungle inside his body oozed free through his eyes, nose, and mouth. Vavraโ€™s mistake had been to draw rational strokes of narrative, compelling me to understand everything about Moon at once. But all Iโ€™d needed was to begin with the singularity of his neck.

---

He was a gift forever in the moment of being handed over. But he couldnโ€™t be had. Hunger pierced me. I wanted something, and I wanted all of it, but I didnโ€™t dare want Moon, because if it was that simple, it was also that impossible.

---

All I wanted was a single sentence that radiated truth, yet I found myself turning page after page, faster and faster, accruing small cuts all over my hand, as if I were grappling with the mouth of a rabid dog.

---

Nothing made me want to end a conversation faster than the words โ€œOh, that reminds me of the time โ€ฆโ€ I did not want to remind anyone of anything. I did not like to be related to.

---

"...To become a human being is the only task, and Iโ€™m dimly aware that its accomplishment requires that I run the hands of truth, briefly gifted from above, over the most secret part of another person. But no one will let me. So should I kill myself? Tell me how. I want to pull it off with such dark elegance that it makes you proud.โ€

---

โ€œYouโ€™ve settled for a comfortable distance from him so that you can yearn without suffering. Sorry, but youโ€™re not in love. Youโ€™re a fan. Boring, lethargic, overfed. If you really loved him, youโ€™d be in Seoul right now. Youโ€™d be walking the streets day and night in search of him. The magnitude of the task would crush you until you became a ball of pulp containing just your heart. All other organsโ€”crushed into dysfunction.โ€
last edit on Sept 28, 2023 16:43:04 GMT by ace.
the narrative
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mankind, be vigilant; we loved you.
started Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution by R.F. Kuang. i saw one reviewer mention that you could just Tell the author is an academic because the title sounds like it's straight out of JSTOR and i felt that in my soul.

that said, one chapter in and this book hits So Hard, goodness. this specific passage gutted me:

He buried his past life, not because it was so terrible but because abandoning it was the only way to survive. He pulled on his English accent like a new coat, adjusted everything he could about himself to make it fit, and, within weeks, wore it with comfort.


update: almost halfway through and its kinda insane how invested i am. this passage got me

โ€˜Youโ€™re lost, brother. Youโ€™re a ship adrift, searching for familiar shores. I understand what it is you want. I sought it too. But there is no homeland. Itโ€™s gone.โ€™ He paused beside Robin on his way to the door. His fingers landed on Robinโ€™s shoulder, squeezed so hard they hurt. โ€˜But realize this, brother. You fly no oneโ€™s flag. Youโ€™re free to seek your own harbour. And you can do so much more than tread water.โ€™


this one was so funny but such a mood

During the fourth-year exams last year, one examinee was rumoured to have become so paranoid that he declared not only that he could not finish the exam but that he was lying about being fluent in French at all. (He was in fact a native speaker.) They all thought they were immune to this particular folly until one day, a week before exams, Letty suddenly broke down crying and declared she knew not a word of German, not a single word, that she was a fraud and her entire career at Babel had been based on pretence. None of them understood this rant until much later, for she had indeed delivered it in German.

last edit on Nov 5, 2023 10:45:16 GMT by CEL



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the narrative
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mankind, be vigilant; we loved you.
finished babel by r.f. kuang two hours ago (still not over it, such a good book) & it put me in the mood to read more adult fantasy centered around postcolonialism. so i just started black sun by rebecca roanhorse and three chapters in, vibing. one passage i rlly liked thus far includes:

He knew his motherโ€™s people carved their flesh as a symbol of their perpetual mourning for what was lost, and he was proud to bear the haahan, but tears still flowed down his cheeks.



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the narrative
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mankind, be vigilant; we loved you.
picked up Black Punk Now, edited by James Spooner and Chris L. Terry, which is an anthology collection of fiction, nonfiction, comics, and interview transcripts all about the afro-punk scene since i wanted to dig a little deeper into that & blasian experiences with regard to punk / the punk scene for character work ++ just generally finding this stuff so interesting. some passages that rlly stuck with me so far include:

The underground needs the mainstream only so far as it needs something to react against.


โ€Transformative.โ€ Black punks have been the blueprint for fusing music and art with political praxis. [โ€ฆ] Thereโ€™s a moment of clarity that happens when Black punks are talking about issues that affect people within subcultural spaces.

โ€Revolutionaryโ€ can go in tandem with that.




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I was reading circe (same author of song achilles) but i will have to reread it now since i forgot where i stopped. I cant help but admire the way the author describes which makes me reread the line or motivate me to writeโ€ฆ

I am also reading im glad my mom died. It is not as descriptive but i love the flow of thoughtsโ€ฆ once more i end up rereading pages instead of movong forward
the narrative
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mankind, be vigilant; we loved you.
finished Before We Disappear by Shaun David Hutchinson and tbh, while i'm pretty indifferent to the main romance (mainly i've found i'm not rlly invested in cute romances btwn an all good character undergoing a lot of trauma & the character who saves him from his environment while they happen to be perfect for each other), this passage was such a banger 

And if youโ€™re right, and our ship is doomed to go down, then weโ€™ll sink together and Iโ€™ll play us a lullaby on the ocean floor.


the next time i write a tragic ship, i want to write a line with this energy.

also started What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing From Complex Trauma by Stephanie Foo, just past the prologue, and i can tell this is gonna be a heavy book but if my experience with it is anything like with Channel Miller's Know My Name, let's go. rlly liking how she writes, like w this passage

To revisit my story, one that has until now relied on lies of omission, perfectionism, and false happy endings. I need to stop being an unreliable narrator. I need to look at myself, my behaviors, and my desires with an unflinching, meticulous eye. I need to tease apart the careful life I have crafted for myself, the one that is threatening to unravel at any minute.


update 15 hours later: finished What My Bones Know, got an existential crisis and processed a lot of personal stuff LMAO, but i did head off to now start When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain by Nghi Vo. i used the previous novella in this series for a stellar paper on how history archives poc women two years back and enjoyed both that novella and paper a hell of a lot, so it's high time i started the sequel

edit several hours later: the singing hills cycle is such a good series. if anyone told me id be invested in the sapphic coded courtship between a tiger and a scholar in a viet-coded fantasy, i wouldn't believe you. but this passage is such a good one and nghi vo is an incredible writer, man

โ€œLet me stay and be for you,โ€ said the tiger, and she rose and drove away the ghosts of the Cheng mansion.
last edit on Jan 4, 2024 0:41:31 GMT by CEL



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