bookish thoughts
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Some weeks are for thoughtful reviews and carefully articulated opinions. This was not one of those weeks. This week was powered by caffeine, vibes, questionable sleep, and the kind of reading thoughts that hit you at 11:47 p.m. when you should be sleeping but are instead staring at the ceiling thinking about fictional people. So
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Some Wednesdays demand structure. Others demand caffeine.This one? It demanded chaos—bookish chaos, specifically—so welcome to Wildcard Wednesday, where I follow whatever curiosity grabs me by the collar and drags me into the stacks. Today’s wildcard obsession: Books that feel like they’re whispering, “Just one more chapter…” even when you know they’re about to emotionally suplex
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There’s a peculiar kind of emptiness that comes after finishing a book that truly gets under your skin. Not the “what should I read next?” kind of lull, but something quieter—an ache that feels suspiciously like missing someone you used to know. You close the cover, still half-living in the story’s world. You keep glancing
literary gluttony 