"I hope I will be able to confide everything to you, as I have never been able to confide in anyone, and I hope you will be a great source of comfort and support."

From the June 12, 1942 entry (her first ever) in Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl.

There’s a lamp on my nightstand I have not turned on in forever. That’s because I have not read a paper book at night in bed (or in the day for that matter) for so long. 

I just finished flipping through a paper magazine (also something I haven’t done in a while since I cancelled all subscriptions) with my lamp on, and since I already have the lighting, am now lying here thinking I should crack open an actual book.

It's amazing how helpful memes can be. I've had plenty of nights this year when I'm lying in bed super late and just laughing my ass off from them. And I mean like the genuinely cracking up, laugh-so-hard-you-can't-breath laughing. The deep type where clutching your stomach to hold on for dear life is the only thing you can do. It's like you're completely free for a moment and filled with this intense joy. Holy shit, what a good time. The feeling has been on mind a lot the past few months. With it, my mind keeps going back to this early memory from high school. It must've been during my sophomore year, but I'm standing with a group of friends in front of the Flushing Main Street Public Library (which was pretty new at the time). I think we had all just eaten together somewhere nearby in Main Street and probably hung out at some cafe for a bit, and we were there to wait for the Q17 so one of my friends could take it. I only remember my friend Natalia being there, because out of all of us, she was laughing the hardest. I don't remember what we were talking about or why, but I was trying to be funny and had everyone doubled over, and that in turn made me laugh harder. We had all started laughing back while eating, and by the time we were at the bus stop, we were laughing so hard that we could barely stand. The sound of Natalia laughing especially made me happy, and this epiphany that someone could think I was funny while being myself, well, I still remember that. Knowing I was gay at that age and desperately not trying to stick out had me normally holding back a lot of who I was. And it was only while immersed in this circle (all-girls, and I am still friends with) did I feel allowed to be silly, therefore feel seen. Don't get me wrong, I grew up with two older sisters and usually had them laughing a lot about dumb shit too. But this was different, because I was still getting to know these friends, and usually stayed quiet as a form of avoiding rejection. It's funny how laughter can bring back the weirdest memories.

"Shin never became a novelist, but he named his first successful business, a company that marketed chewing gum, Lotte after Charlotte, the female character in Wolfgang von Goethe’s novel 'The Sorrows of Young Werther.' Mr. Shin was especially proud of the name Lotte, calling it 'the best choice in my life.'"

From the January 19, 2020 NYT Article: ‘Chewing Gum Tycoon’ of Lotte Group, Shin Kyuk-ho, Dies at 98. By Choe Sang-Hun.

I took my books and I ran out of there.

"Our culture teaches us to focus on personal uniqueness, but at a deeper level we barely exist as individual organisms. Our brains are built to help us function as members of a tribe. We are part of that tribe even when we are by ourselves, whether listening to music (that other people created), watching a basketball game on television (our own muscles tensing as the players run and jump), or preparing a spreadsheet for a sales meeting (anticipating the boss's reactions). Most of our energy is devoted to connecting with others."

From the book The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van Der Kolk, M.D. Page 80.

“If you are reading this, and you’re a writer, and you, like me, are gripped with despair, when you think you might stop: Speak to your dead. Write for your dead. Tell them a story. What are you doing with this life? Let them hold you accountable. Let them make you bolder or more modest or louder or more loving, whatever it is, but ask them in, listen, and then write.”

From the book How to Write an Autobiographical Novel by Alexander Chee. Page 270.

"To truly know someone is to be fully aware of their inner lives, the people whose lives made their lives possible, and the context through which they have survived. There's much we don't know about each other."

From the book No Ashes in the Fire by Darnell L. Moore. E-book version page 35.

"The gurgle of whiskey pouring into the glass was music to my ears. Like an old friend opening his heart to me."

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 445.

"I set the water to boil, warmed the asparagus-and-bacon sauce in a pan, and threw together a quick salad of lettuce, tomato, onion, and green peppers. When the water boiled, I tossed in the pasta and diced some parsley while it cooked."

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 351.

"'Why don't you stay for lunch?' I asked the the two of them. 'I can whip up a pasta and salad in no time.'"

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 351.

"He might have wanted to decisively separate himself from the self he used to be."

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 282.

The past few weeks or so.

My retail therapy is buying cookbooks on sale through the Apple Books store.

There's always an ever-changing selection of them in the $5 and under section, providing access to recipes and stories of some of the industry's best for just a few bucks. This is also definitely what I scroll though the most throughout my day, because I've noticed that sometimes a cookbook will pop-up and disappear from the sale section in what seems like a short time. There have been instances where I saw a cookbook on sale but didn't buy it at that moment. Then I would go back a little later and search for it directly and press Buy Book without thinking, just to realize it was listed back to its full price.

I'm not a huge shopper, so buying cookbooks this way gives me that instant gratification I'm looking for. It's healthier than buying food, and definitely better than blowing my money on other stuff I'll eventually regret and toss. Because I've moved so many times as an adult, I've come to prefer owning as little physical possessions as possible. So this digital cookbook addiction of mine satisfies without all the guilt. And each one is so cheap that I convince myself it's not a big deal. Plus, I tell myself that at least it feels like I'm building something. I've amassed this huge library of culinary knowledge I can refer to anytime I like. The depth of information in the form of gorgeous photos and quality writing available at the swipe of my fingertips feels priceless to me. I think it's pretty cool in a way because scrolling through food content is my favorite pastime after actually eating, so what better way is there to dick around and waste time on.

I had been buying cookbooks this way on the daily for a while, and never really thought about the total number I had in my collection. Then I looked at the number this week and saw that I had accumulated 300+, which really blew my mind. That means this little shopping hobby of mine, with a few dollars here and a few bucks there, has definitely built up to costing over a grand at this point. I mean, considering the retail value of them all and the hard work that was put into producing each book, it's well worth it. But I'll be damned, that's still a significant total amount of money for purchases that felt so little at the time.

Starting to read a new book is like the beginning of a fresh relationship. You have to get to know the writer and their writing style, and hit a point of finding your rhythm together. Just like people, sometimes the chemistry is there from the start, or sometimes the comfort level is found a few chapters in. Or then there are definitely the times where it doesn't happen at all, and seeing the book through to its end just doesn't seem possible.

Been thinking about you today, Anne.

"A young man on a bicycle three years ago, probably a grocer's helper or errand boy, riding down a narrow path with his apron on, staring me straight in the face, as I stared back, no smile, just a troubled look, till he passed me by. And then I did what I always hope others might do in such cases. I waited a few seconds, then turned around. He had done the exact same thing."

From the book Call Me By Your Name. Written by Andre Aciman, Page 176.

"For my mother, Norine Elizabeth Dedeaux,
who loved me before I took my first breath.
Every second of my life, she shows me so."

From the dedication page of Jesmyn Ward's book: Sing, Unburied, Sing.

"'We're too old to think we'll meet again,' Less says."

From the book Less by Andrew Seen Greer. Page 157.

"At first, it feels good, savoring each bite, the world falling away. I forget about my stresses, my sadness. All I care about are the flavors in my mouth, the extraordinary pleasure of the act of eating. I start to feel full but ignore that fulness and that sense of fullness goes away and all I feel is sick, but still, I eat. When there is nothing left, I no longer feel comfort. What I feel is guilt and uncontrollable loathing, and oftentimes, I find something else to eat, to soothe those feelings, and strangely, punish myself."

From the book Hunger by Roxanne Gay. Page 170, e-book edition.