it’s a bit of a cliché but sometimes there are books that really resonate with you, where you are in life, reflect exactly how you’re feeling – your current malaise. i picked this book up knowing absolutely nothing about it i honestly just liked the cover and took it home, sneak reading it when the brats were comatose. it chronicles the travails of a worn out new yorker and her attempts to sleep away a life of cares which she has born and yet must bear. well not a life exactly but one year. she uses various cocktails of pharmaceutical grade sleepers to wipe out the bullshit.
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the tone is fairly emotionless, matter of fact, even though the underlying subject matter is anything but. self loathing, dead parents, ennui, disgust for contemporary so – called life…
she works in an art gallery and skewers nicely the emptiness of it all. also murders contemporary materialism. a breath of fucking fresh air… go and read it if you can. ok there’s a lot of dead parents and funerals and drugs in it but don’t be dismayed by the subject matter. it’s really a breezy read…
by Hugh O'Malley, Beauty Photographer and Videographer based in Shanghai