Picked this up post-sushi dinner with IL. We walked to Green Apple Books and each picked up a copy: mine softcover, hers hardcover. There's $20 on the line to we hold ourselves accountable. We're finishing this book by the end of 2025. It's happening. Promise.

This book reminds me of how I adore fiction. I devoured the first few chapters and thought "so much happened, it feels like the meagre times I've watched korean dramas." Well, kind of. The narrative feels cheesy sometimes: teenage protagonists, experimental relationships, slow-burn friends-to-lovers (?), sunny LA, frigid Northeast, playing video games, crafting video games, etc.

I haven't read fiction like this in a long time. I recently came across the idea of pursuing "lindier" things: reading classic novels (does Wuthering Heights count?) and scripture, listening to orchestral compositions, you get the point. Why? I want to curate, cultivate, grow, evolve.

What we consume becomes who we are. So, how do I feel about reading this? On one hand, the world-building is beautiful. I'm starting to feel for these characters. I see their lives fill in with colour. Hah! I'm still using my Canadian spelling.

An aside: what is this website exactly? So far, it seems like a public brain dump. My little nook of internet, furnished with loose threads I've been meaning to chase. It's an open notebook, a place to workshop and explore. A peek into my mind: messy and at times, convoluted. Writing is the pursuit of clarity, and I've got a very long ways to go.

I finished this book on December 16th, 2025 and immediately scrawled down the following note:

"It’s 11:11 on December 16th and I’ve just finished reading Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow. Tender, winding, imperfect love. Love as more than romantic, but collaborative. Creative force, the generative midwife. Marx, gentle Marx. Seemingly unflawed—did he have it all?"

Now, 3 weeks later, I'm trying to recollect my thoughts. I loved this book. Was it the finest piece of literature I'd ever laid eyes upon? No. But I can't remember the last time I was compelled to read with as much fervor as I did.