Artemis > Recent Status Updates

“It is remarkable that I have the astonishing luck to do this for a living, to have this nonsense count as work.” “…There’s no sensible argument that the world needs another book, by me or anyone else. But I’m doing it anyway.” AHH I’m trying to get into this for younger me. She would’ve eaten this shit up.

I’m only on page 2 and I already feel like these essays will be rambling and aimless and a touch uninteresting. But little me who’s a Daniel Handler/Lemony Snicket stan will make me power through. Also that’s always been his writing style.

I have chosen happiness. Out of all the emotions set out on the table, I have selected it. It is by far the superior option. It’s insane to think I would have ever picked one of those shittier emotions before—when all the while, I could have chosen shiny, shimmering, iridescent happiness.

“Of course I’m a fraud. The fact that I’m able to carry myself through life without being crushed beneath the psychological weight of being alive proves that I’m a con artist.”

The story is dragging and I’m so bored.

Opening line - “The problem with your best friend dying is that there’s no one to sit with you at funerals.”

That night, Ms Anders had said quietly but firmly: "You've got edges and corners and curves to your soul. We all do. But yours are special. Hear me? It might take some time, but someday, you're gonna find the folks who fit just right. You'll see."

I love this book! Young black girls are magic ✨

I don't think I'm gonna finish this. I always get too far into a book before I decide to quit for good, like I want to give the author a chance to prove themselves. Sigh. Ugh. No. I don't think I can keep reading a story about an unreal girl who swoops into lives and changes them forever in a day yada yada. It's like looking for Alaska all over again.

God he said she was like an apparition. Unlike any girl he's met before. Different than talking to other pretty girls. Her smile. That smile. How can I make her smile again? Uuuuuggggghhhhh staaaahhhhp. Maybe it gets better. Like paper towns right? That got better I think. Or I was just 17 when I read it and all the special snowflake different from other girls-iness didn't bother me yet.

ALL THIS TIME I HAVE BEEN READING YOU AND YOU WERE WRITTEN BY THE WOMAN WHO WROTE BEASTLY. Hm. I am not sure how to feel about this information. My boyfriend gave me this one. I told him I am not about to feel sorry for or "try to understand" where the abuser is coming from. A bit formulaic and the characters are a bit obvious but. Y'know.

It's 1:35 AM and I am so wired. I'm going to know how this ends before I shut my eyes. But how is this going to wrap up in 26 pages??

I am making pitiful progress through this. 'What avail are good looks? To grab temporary security? What avail are brains? Merely to say "I have seen; I have comprehended?" Ah yes, I hate myself for not being able to go downstairs naturally and seek comfort in numbers. I hate myself for having to sit here and be torn between I know not what within me.' This is like reading my 16-18 y.o. diaries. Is this real life?

I'm learning a lot about the scientific processes that the body undergoes during and after a fiery car accident.... A lot.

You can't kill what's never lived, Doug.