Sometimes there are book titles that just speak to me in various moments of life. Perhaps just lingering over the title in the bookstore is enough. Other times the book must be purchased. Tonight on another sleepless night filled with anguish, angst, and worry the title Another Bullshit Night in Suck City comes to mind.
I don’t remember the gist of the book. I could look it up; I could link to it; but where would be the fun in that. The reality would distort the moment. I don’t want the actual or real. Right now I just want the imaginary. I want the title. I want to think about how, yes, this is just another bullshit sleepless night in suck city Singapore. I must linger on how that fits. I envision the yellow lettering on the dark background like the glow of my computer screen in this otherwise darkened apartment.
I am not sure if thinking about my books calms me or riles me up. I know that thinking about apartment hunting and future apartments alone back on the other side of the ocean fills me with excitement and wonderment, as well as worry and angst. But I must calm down. I must sleep. I must take better care of myself in all of this. I must sleep